


This House is a Circus, Berserk as Fuck

by thewhalesaid



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Multi, Pairings are Irrelevant, References to Suicide, aka Avengers go to Hogwarts, marvel civil war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-29
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 03:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewhalesaid/pseuds/thewhalesaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hogwarts Professors have a few things they keep as a mantra: Tony Stark graduates in two measly years, Steve Rogers has yet to break, Clint Barton will one day get hit with a bludger hard enough to keep from talking, Loki has stopped pranking the poltergeist, Pepper Potts rules the prefects with an iron hand, Bruce Banner's getting a grip of his furry little problem, Natasha Romanoff did not frighten a First Year to the point of fainting first day back, and Thor has yet to discover the kitchens. Now, if only this would keep them going through the year, and the outside world doesn't implode before graduation.</p><p>Alt. Where's Distance Bred, In the Heart or Hand ?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _This house is a circus, berserk as fuck. We tend to see that as a perk, though. Look what it's done to your friends, their memories are pretend, and the last thing they want is for the feeling to end._
> 
> Once upon a time, my friend bought a 24oz RedBull and hovered it over my head, refusing to hand it over until I agreed to write him an Avengers / Hogwarts Crossover, or start it by sunrise. This is what happened.
> 
> I almost considered buying a cup of 7-11 coffee, I really did. The rest, as they say, is history.

 

Tony Stark is having a nightmare, and it's absolutely _terrifying._

It involves a surprising lack of darkness -- as far as nightmares go, at least. Instead, it's full of light, the same light that seeps through his curtains into the dormitory room, the four-poster bed, illuminating his poster of Basic Herbs And Potion Elements ( that he's had memorized since the afternoon he acquired it in Diagon Alley, thank you very much -- all three hundred and six of them ) and, consequently, prying him away from the warm, sleep cocoon he creates every time he wraps his blue-and-silver covers around himself and closes his eyes.

The light's not the scary part, of this nightmare, despite the fact that he would love nothing more than to strangle it with his bare hands when he's only just fallen asleep.

No, the terrifying part, the part that makes Tony want to scream and for good reason, is that Pepper Potts is standing over him, her Gryffindor robes somehow _matching_ perfectly with her hair.

Now _that_ makes him want to yelp and scramble, maybe towards the Forbidden Forest ( which, come to think of it, really isn't _that_ scary, if you really think about it, and he has -- a lot ), or even high tail it to a Double Charms class.

And Tony doesn't show up on time for Double Charms, ever.

But right now, Tony is _really_ starting to reconsider his distaste for the class, if it means avoiding the way Pepper's eyes are narrowing at him, locking him into his bed, and he can't move, not even to shout the one thought running through his head:

_HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET INTO HERE, BEGONE WITH YOU, GRIFFIN-BEAST._

Nevermind the fact that Gryffindors are Lions, and that Tony himself is a 'griffin', because Pepper is standing over his bed, and she shouldn't be here, why is she here, isn't there a rule about this --

" GET OUT OF HERE !"

Tony jolts awake, scrambling backwards on the heavy oak chair he's sitting on, narrowly missing being hit in the eye with his Advanced Potions book. He stares, eyes wide and frantic, as the corners of his room disappear and those of the library take its place -- Pepper now replaced with the narrowing glare of Madam Pince, who quickly grabs the flying book and slams it, somehow delicately, onto the table.

" Mister Stark, I don't know if you're aware, but this is a _library_ , and simply because you've decided to hide in the Restricted Section does not mean you have excused yourself from following the rules. Now you will be quiet and whisper, before I send you off. "

Tony can't help grinning, waving off the reprimanding glare he's receiving, and nods. " Sure thing, Irma, are those new glasses ? I thought the whole cat eye look was done with, retro, out of here, but you're doing a fine job bringing them back. "

Madame Pince doesn't waver for a second, narrowing her eyes at the fifteen year old before her, and shakes her head. " Flattery will not get you a wild card in my library, Mister Stark, don't forget that, " she warns, before turning heel and disappearing as easily as she appeared. Tony doesn't bother wondering -- he can disappear too, if he wants. After all, why else would he be holed up in the corner of the library, on the only table in the Restricted Section, the table he moved over himself during his Second Year, the table he was allowed to keep after an unfortunate mishape Third Year, the table that still only exists because he gets every single one of his teachers to sign off on his studying in the Restricted Section, every term.

Yeah. See if you can disappear like that, Madame Pince.

When the two-second, obligatory waiting period passes, ensuring that the librarian isn't coming back to check on him ( and that Pepper isn't lurking in the shadows ), Tony returns to what had caused him to drift to sleep in the first place. It's the eighteen inches of Astrology homework he has to do, describing the history and accuracy of Hipparchus' original star chart, compared to the sky's layout this past summer. It's not difficult, at all -- quite the opposite, which is his problem. Tony can't write about this in eighteen inches -- eighteen feet, doable, eighteen words, maybe, but eighteen inches ? It's too long for him to be able to factually summarize, too short for him to go into accurate detail, and overall, too worthless of an assignment for him to even bother with.

He knows the star patterns, knows how they looked over the summer, knows that Professor Storm knows he knows it, and really, there's all too much knowing going around here for Tony to really want to muse on.

And Clint says no learning happens in the library -- Tony might have to agree with him, considering the fact that he already _knows_ everything, so what good is _learning_ , when it's already been _learned_ ?

He groans in frustration, then freezes, ears straining to pick up on any noise indicating that Madame Pince is coming along to kick him out, again. He doesn't know why he does this, she's just like Pepper, or that Slyterin girl Clint hangs out with ( seriously, what is it with redheads and stealth ?), Tony might be an observant man, but even he knows he'll never hear her coming.

The coast is clear, however, and he folds himself back over the paper, quill scratching as he continues with his essay. Thirty minutes, twenty-seven inches, fifteen uses of the word _bullocks_ , eleven cuss words, three half-hearted attempts to cross-out an insulting statement, and one mental breakdown ( resulting in five inches of Tony rambling over why he shouldn't have to be writing this paper in the first place ) later, Tony is wrapping up the parchment ( casting a quick drying spell on the ink before he does so -- please, he's not a First Year ) and tucking it haphazardly between the pages of his Muggle Studies book. He'll find it before class tonight, he's sure of it.

The hedgehog, initially a quill, that Tony's charmed to walk the perimeter of the desk and keep him company suddenly looks up, tilting its head and sneezing. Tony frowns, looking up from the beginning of his reading, his well-deserved break from work. " Butterfingers, what's wrong ?" he asks, in a hushed tone, and the hedgehog sneezes again, before it _rolls_ its way over to the swinging hourglass his mother bought him, six years ago, when Headmaster Fury had arrived at his home with a wax-sealed envelope, explaining the entirety of the situation.

( _" There's not going to be any electricity, Tony, " she'd pointed out, handing it to him while he was packing his bag -- an eleven year old really couldn't own that much clothes now, could he ?_

_" Doesn't mean I have to go back to the olden days and have an **hourglass** , " was the rebuttal._

_" Still, I'm sure even magic professors don't like their students being late. "_

_Tony had snorted, still too stunned, but at the same time, taking this much too easily, to respond further, but in the end, he'd grabbed the hourglass and shoved it in the side pocket of his bag._ )

" Time's not up yet, " he points out, ignoring the look the hedgehog gives him, as sand makes its way back _up_ the hourglass before it gets entirely empty. Butterfingers sneezes again, and Tony sighs. " Fine, fine, you big baby, if you're gonna pretend to be _sick_ \-- " He continues his grumbling, pointedly ignoring the happy squeak the animal ( not an animal, he reminds himself, you transfigured this, this is a _quill_ ) gives him as he starts throwing books back into his bag.

" Oh shut up, " he adds, waving his wand, the rolls of parchment tying together, ink packing itself back up, quills zooming into the side pocket of the bag, " Before I find another quill to make you out of -- or better you, I'll just transform you back and never -- "

" Mister Stark, as glad as I am to see that you're finally _leaving_ , I have to remind you that talking to yourself is not part of the clean-up process, " Madame Pince's voice calls out, a few rows down.

" Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way out, " he grumbles. Another flick of his wand and the books with the damaged covers and torn pages, with the worn writing and years of knowledge, are heading back into their rightful places.

" Are you using _magic_ on my restricted books ?!" Pince's voice calls out, and Tony swears, grabbing Butterfingers in his hand, shoving the hourglass into the pocket of his robes as he throws the bag of his shoulder. " Young man, I will not tolerate that kind of -- "

" Easy there, Irma, the spells won't mess up your precious books, " he replies, ducking behind a bookshelf before the librarian can make her way towards His Table.

" No using spells on my books, Stark !" The warning rings out to Tony, as he chuckles to himself and quickly beelines for the exit of the library, leaving a disgruntled librarian behind him.

" Yeah right, " he's telling Butterfingers, letting the hedgehog scramble from hand to hand, " Like I would make up a spell that ruins books, really, what kind of person does she think I am ?" Butterfingers blinks up in response, squeaking, and Tony sighs. " Right, because I'm supposed to expect you to answer. Say, that's funny, you're not sneezing anymore. " He narrows his eyes, and the hedgehog blinks again, before scrambling ahead, causing Tony to switch hands once more. " Way to avoid the conversation, " he mutters, before a blow to the back of the head causes Tony to stumble forward, smacking into the body turning a corner.

" Sorry there, Stark, " he hears a voice -- Clint's, the asshole -- call out, but has no time to reprimand his friend because he's too busy being steadied, and Butterfingers goes flying.

" No !" Tony shouts, grabbing his wand and almost taking out a seventh year's eye ( blonde, Slytherin robes, padded bra ) in the process.

" Woah, there, " a voice says, but Tony's eyes are locked on the floor, and he can hear Butterfingers squeak over the sounds of the crowd. " _Noçire_!" he shouts, hitting the floor, causing one of the Third Years to shriek, but he doesn't care. He manages to do it three more times before a hand grabs his wand and lifts it out of his reach, blue eyes narrowing down at him.

" You're not supposed to use magic in the halls, " the man reprimands, and Tony scowls.

" You're not supposed to run into strangers and steal their wands, " he spits back, eyes searching for the pet. The man frowns a little more, and opens his mouth to say something, but Tony catches sight of grey and brown, and leaps into the crowd, smoothly reaching out to cup poor Butterfingers in an ink-stained hand. He grins at himself, proudly, looking down at the animal's beady, blinking eyes, before finally looking to where his wand is still dangling from the blonde's hand.

" I didn't steal your wand, " he points out, and Tony snorts, now cupping Butterfingers in both hands, hiding him from the curious gaze. He discretely slips a finger in, smoothing over the soft spines right atop his head.

" Like hell you did -- now give it back. "

" You're not supposed to use magic in the halls, " he repeats, word for word, and Tony rolls his eyes. They gatch a glimmer of metal, and he's slowly drawn into the badge, pinned proudly on the breast pocket of the other's scarlet robes. The man follows Tony's line of vision, catching this before Tony has a chance to advert his gaze, and nods. " Yeah, so, again. You're not supposed to -- "

" Use magic in the halls, yeah, I know, " Tony finishes, staring him head-on. " Look, it was a mistake, desperate circumstances, whatever -- can I have my wand back ?"

The Head Boy considers this for a moment, and this time, it's Tony that doesn't miss the way his eyes glance to his hands, which just makes Tony pull Butterfingers closer to him.

" I promise it won't happen again, Mister Head Boy Man, " he adds, grinning his fakest of all dazzling smiles, and Steve Rogers sighs.

" Alright, just this once, but -- " Before he can start what Tony's sure to be some long-winded speech on obeying the rules, and how dangerous it is if the school's precious Magic-in-the-Hallways rule is to be broken, Tony catches sight of curled red hair and a curiously arched eyebrow marching their way down a staircase.

" Shit, Pepper, " he mutters, turning his head quickly to Steve, who frowns at the interruption. Tony uses this to his advantage, and steps closer. " Look, sorry, not happening again, I got it, but I've also got to dash, because you, Mister Head Boy Man, probably know all about Mrs Prefect Man -- and yes, she is considered man when she's basically The Man -- so I am now a Man on the Run. " He ends his ramble by hopping up, grabbing the wand out of Steve's hand, and bolts past his shoulder.

" Hey, wait !" Steve starts, but Tony's already making his way down the hall, shouting over his shoulder, " Bye, thanks, won't happen again !"

He slips through the crowd until he makes it to the Ravenclaw Tower, Butterfingers nestled safely against his robes, and only then does he let himself sigh in relief. Pepper can't get him here, he reminds himself, thowing himself onto the couch, ignoring the curious looks of some First Year or another. Nightmares aside, she doesn't know the password, and Tony is not about to succumb to whatever begging scheme she has, just for her to hand over the Charms notes, yet again. Not after last time.

Butterfingers sneezes, and Tony gives him a warning glare. " Watch it, you, I just saved your life, " he mutters, shrugging off his bag to start digging through for an empty sheet of parchment. Now to come up with a way to keep Butterfingers from flying away from him ( he'll get Barton for that one later ), and stop talking to his quill -- easy enough ways to pass the time before Astronomy in a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Pairings will probably be added later, once I find out what they actually are.**
> 
> This was going to be longer, but I'm running on a deadline, and have to sleep sometime. This is also my first time writing fanfiction, so please, forgive me, myself, and any mistake that I make -- pertaining to either fandom.
> 
> Noçire is Eriçon backwards, which means hedgehog.
> 
> I space things out strangely because I'm European. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> This is for Asshole Number One ( Purchaser of The Coffee ), and Charlie, because she listened to me think this through out loud.


	2. Chapter 2

" Uhm, are you ... You're Tony, right ?"

The voice, small and hesitant, pulls Tony out of sleep almost immediately, with a jolt and a, " Hmurgh, whaaa ?"

The Fourth Year boy is stands over him, fidgeting with the strap of his bag. Once Tony's able to wearily blink the sleep out of the corner of his eyes, he frowns. This kid's about six feet, maybe an extra inch, tall, and Tony's seen him roughousing with friends out in the courtyard. The kid's pretty big. Big enough to hold his own, and pack a punch to follow, but here he is, eyes teetering about nervously. Tony's eyes shoot wide open when he realizes what's going on, because only one person can make six-foot-one boys look like this, and it's not what he wants to hear right now.

" You, er. Your friend ? Your friend says you need to get outside, she, er -- Pepper Potts ?"

But Tony's barely listening anymore. Instead, he's collecting the sheet or parchment he'd fallen asleep writing on, and even Butterfingers has hidden behind his bag. " Yeah, I got it, look, can you just tell her I'm not in -- " he starts, when a trio of girls walk out of the tower, and he hears Pepper take her window of opportunity.

" Get out of my wa -- Don't even try, Morrey, I'll have you hexed across my common room before you can say so -- TONY STARK, GET OUT HERE RIGHT THIS MOMENT. "

Swearing again, Tony grabs his bag, calling, " BE THERE IN A SECOND, MOM, " before throwing himself to the ground and army crawling behind the couch. He makes it halfway across the common room, much to the amusement of the spectators, before Butterfingers elicits a squeak, and there's a hand on the back of his neck.

" Tony, " Pepper starts, narrowing her eyes at him as he rolls over to his back.

Tony grins, his second-to-most fakest smile, and stretches out, folding his arms behind his head. " You're not supposed to be in here, oh mighty one, " he greets cheerfully.

" Maybe if your fellow Ravenclaws, with their wit and learning, didn't leave the door open, I wouldn't be here, " Pepper retorts.

Tony busies himself with grabbing Butterfingers before he can scamper off, and placing the hedgehog on his stomach. He's not sure, but he thinks he notices the corner of Pepper's mouth twitch. " Yeah, well, what can I say -- I must've kidnapped all the clever, " he responds easily, and Pepper snorts.

" Right. Which, by the way, nice job showing up for Charms yesterday, Mr. Clever. "

" I had better things to do. " When Pepper's finely-sculpted, lethal eyebrow stays raised, Tony just shrugs, attention drawn back to Butterfingers.

" Tony, you can't keep missing class and expecting me to take notes for you, because I won't, " is the response he's met with. Tony, in retailiation, simply lifts up a hand, the other keeping Butterfingers from falling off the sides of his chest. " I'm not handing you the notes, Tony, " Pepper adds, sighing in frustration when Tony refuses to say anything more.

" Fine, but this is the last time. " A roll of parchment is stuffed into his hand, and Tony grins.

" You said that in our second year, " he points out, proving that, over time, one can become immune to Pepper's Patented Reproachful Glare after six years of being on its receiving end. Numbers 1 - 6, that is, Tony's not too sure he can be under 7 - 10 without flinching, and he's only even seen eleven twice.

" Don't press your luck, " the redhead warns, her gaze flickering back towards Butterfingers.

" Then give me a few more buttons to press, " Tony replies, waggling an eyebrow. Pepper sighs again, and Tony knows he's won.

Now free to move withoout fear, not that he was afraid in the first place, he's Anthony Edward Stark, for Christsake, Tony sits himself up an elbow, keeping a hand out for Butterfingers. Pepper's gaze softens at the sight, and she leans over, grabbing Tony's bag to fold her notes neatly between book covers.

" Come on, " she mutters, " Go put this in your room, and we'll get you fed. "

Tony grins now, hopping up and taking his bag from her, giving her a kiss on the cheek before he runs upstairs to throw his bag into the general direction of his bed, ignoring the cries of, " Tony, inappropriate !" that follow. His robes are shed, leaving him bustling down the stairs in a partially-unbuttoned chemise shirt, tie loose around his neck. He looks scruffy in his attire, complete with Butterfingers lounging in the chest pocket of his shirt, especially compared to Pepper's immaculately-curled hair, and neatly ironed robes. But he knows Pepper, and knows that the only reason they're ironed is because her clothing folds itself, irons itself, sometimes even cleans itself by the time she wakes up. His clothes could do that too, if Tony could be bothered to learn the spell, but put together has never really been a good look on him, even when attending uniform-required school in his youth. Tony's been so accustomed to uniforms, he's spent half his life in them, that even in the summer, button ups have become the norm. Tony knows he really should re-evaluate his life choices, when he's about to turn sixteen and button ups are considered everyday wear, but the girls like it, the boys like it, and Tony couldn't really care farther than that.

The two make their down to the Great Hall, where most of the students are either filing out, or running towards it like their lives depend on reaching their destination. It's probably true, considering the fact that they have about twenty-one minutes until the food magically disappears, and then they have to walk all the way over to the kitchens to get more. Imagine that. Bruce is already waiting for them at the Gryffindor table, bent over his notes and barely acknowledging the piece of garlic bread beside him. So much, in fact, that when Tony sits down and takes a huge bite out of it, it's Pepper who reprimands him.

" Oi, Banner, school's barely started -- no need to lick every page of your textbook, " Tony states, elbowing Bruce out of his homework-induced stupor.

The other male blinks, hazel eyes focusing towards Tony's face, before he grins a shy, tired grin. " Oh really ? Because I heard Pince ranting about you when I stopped by the library earlier -- it's only, what, two weeks in, and you've already barricaded yourself in the Restricted Section -- hey, where'd my garlic bread go ?"

Tony shrugs, reaching over to fill his plate with mashed potatoes, dumping two spoonfuls into Bruce's plate. " There's garlic bread today ? Score. "

It takes the trio ten minutes to actually consume their meal, with an additional twenty-five when Tony and Bruce start making their utensils, forcing Pepper to join in and compete Fork versus Spoon versus Knife. Tony's, the fork, loses, and the other two pretend it's not because, despite being an excellent spell-caster, Tony's more prone to making up his own spells -- none of which are actually too safe, so they've been banned from any dinnertime Olympics. However, because he's lost, Pepper and Bruce convince him to eat something more than just mashed potatoes, and it's during this time that Tony mashes up the steamed vegetables to make mashed-vegetables, and molds it into shapes with his fork.

With Pepper's look of disgust, and generous eating of the brocolli ( that refuses to turn mushy ), Tony is able to make a shape rather resembling a wheel, which reminds him.

" I forgot to tell you guys !" he exclaims, slamming his fork down and pushing his plate away. Pepper opens her mouth to say something, but Tony has long-since interrupted her. " I got my permit over the summer !"

When Bruce and Pepper stare at him with blank faces, Tony sighs, not working very hard to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

" Permit ? So I can drive cars ? You know, the things, that are boxes, with all the wires and electrical aspects, with the motor, and they go vroom vroom ?" He's explained this to them a million times, has drawn them diagrams, brought books over during vacation, all but built an exact replica of a car in an empty classroom, and still, blank looks. " You guys have got to be kidding me, " he mutters, shaking his head in disappointment, " And you say _I_ have trouble listening -- you guys can't even remember this one thing, this one, puny little detail !"

Bruce rolls his eyes, reaching over to start eating Tony's plate. Pepper doesn't even give him a look, because they both know the mashed vegetables were all for show, and Tony's not going to eat anything until after Astronomy tonight, anyway.

" So, you have this permit, " Pepper asks, frowning slightly, " Which means you can ... Make the box go vroom vroom ?"

Tony grins widely, and Bruce almost chokes on a carrot at the fact that Pepper Potts just said the words, make the box go vroom vroom. Tony spends about three more minutes trying to explain to them, a fork may be lost in the process, but by the end of it, Bruce and Pepper simply shrug their shoulders, and offer him reassuring pats of the back and a, " That's good, Tony, good for you. "

" Whatever, " he mumbles through a gulp of pumpkin juice, " Rhodey will be happy for me -- hey, where _is_ Rhodey, anyway ?"

" I think he's working with Steve to offer flying lessons before Quidditch Tryouts, " is the reply from Bruce, who's finished the plate by now.

" They should be done soon, Steve's supposed to be meeting me in half an hour to compare notes, " Pepper adds, and Tony hums in thought.

" Who's Steve ?" he asks, as Bruce packs his things up.

" Tony, you know who Steve is, " is the exasperated response from Pepper, and, when no further explanation comes forth, Tony just shrugs.

" I'll take your word for it, " he replies, getting out of his seat, Bruce and Pepper doing the same. The trio make their way towards the staircase, falling back into the same habit of heading over to the Gryffindor Common Room, despite the blue on Tony's tie. The House Prefects have tried and tried again, but nothing short if being kicked out of the castle entirely will keep Tony from entering a Common Room that isn't his -- and even then, he'd managed to cast a spell on himself that would've ended in him landing on Bruce's windowsill, had he not miscalculated the windows. And tower. And ended up on the window sill of a Seventh Year Girls' bathroom.

Awful mistake, really, anyone could've made it.

Soon enough, the three have taken over one of the cozier spots in the corner. Bruce is scrawling notes into his Transfiguration textbook, pre-reading the reading, Pepper is curled up on her own seat, reading one of her for-leisure books, and Tony is sprawled across the third armchair, allowing Butterfingers to run across his torso, from one hand to another. At least, this is where Rhodey finds them, ten minutes after they've finally settled in.

" Rhodey !" Tony exclaims, despite his refusal to move over to even look at his friend. " I got my permit this summer. "

" Congrats, bud, but, er. What're you doing here ?"

At this, Tony turns his head, raising a dubious eyebrow at his friend, still in his Quidditch robes.

" It's Wednesday, " he answers, as if this explains everything, which Rhodey, bless him, accepts.

The blonde beside him, on the other hand, frowns a bit more.

" You're not supposed to be in here, " he points out, hair mussed but somehow still parted, cheeks pink from what Tony suspects is the wind. Tony snorts at this, turning his attention back to Butterfingers, and Pepper finally looks up.

" Steve, hey, " she greets, Bruce murmuring his own greeting. The blonde -- Steve, it seems -- grins at them both, and conjures up an extra chair for Rhodey to sit on, as he takes the last empty one. " How was practice ?"

" It was alright, there's a lot of Second Years that could do with a bit more time in the air, but they'll get the hang of it before practice, " Steve answers, grinning easily, and Tony tunes the conversation out easily, drawing his attention back to the hedgehog. He does this, watching as the animal scurries over to rest on his stomach, until someone nudges the foot he has thrown over the arm of the chair, and he looks up to see three and a half expectant sets of eyes.

" What ?" he asks, instinctively reaching over to cover Butterfingers with his hands.

" Steve asked what you were doing here, " Pepper offers, fighting back a laugh, and Tony frowns.

" Who's Steve ?"

Rhodey can't keep his laughter in at that one, hiding behind his hand, before he pins Tony with a look. " He's been talking to you for the past five minutes ?" Tony blinks again, shrugging, and Steve's frown deepends.

" I'm Steve, " he says, giving Tony a strange look. Tony glances over at Pepper, who smirks, and shrugs.

" Got it, " is the answer, before Tony turns his attention back to calming a curious Butterfingers.

" Excuse Tony, " he hears Pepper say, " He's not very good at names -- Tony, you know who Steve is. " She's got her You Better Listen To Me voice on, so Tony is sure to tune back in. He opens his mouth to respond, then glances over at 'Steve' and takes note of the dried mud on his shoes, and how his hair isn't so much mussed as it is windsept. But it looks like it should be much, much neater, and something with the way Steve is looking over at him, and even more curiously at Butterfingers, snaps the pieces into place.

" Oh, Mister Head Boy Man, right ! You're on the Team, right ?"

" He's the Captain of the team, " Rhodey points out, laughing, and Tony quickly tugs Butterfingers closer to the spot between his body and the couch, away from Steve's curious glance.

" See, I knew you were, " Tony answers smugly, and he swears he can feel Pepper roll her eyes from over here.

" Yes, well ... You're still not supposed to be in here, " Steve responds. When Tony does nothing, he continues, " I've had this conversation with you a few times already ... "

Tony waves him off with a gesture, officially bored with the conversation. " Then you know I'm not gonna leave, it's okay though, you did your Prefect duties, no one'll get you in trouble -- consider it your payback for stealing my wand earlier -- "

" I didn't _steal_ it !" Steve replies quickly, repeating, " Honest, I didn't, " for Pepper's sake, Tony assumes.

" It's okay, Tony's just dumb, " Rhodey answers, and Pepper nods.

" Seriously, Tone, that mouth of yours is gonna get you into trouble one day, " she points out, as Steve continues to protest that he _stole_ anything, and somewhere along the lines, a game of chess is started.

Her statement comes back to Tony's mind a few months later, when he's being uncomfortably pressed against a statue by scarlet Quidditch robes, and Steve's hair is being professionaly _un_ parted by Tony's hands.

He can't tell if she's absolutely correct, or disastrously wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drank a cup of coffee, and by the time I reached the end, I had a plot. Bear with me for the slow-start, here, it will ( hopefully ) be made up to you.

Steve Rogers has grown up knowing he was going to be in Gryffindor.

It has nothing to do with external influence, parental or otherwise. His mother wears her Badger brooch proudly every time she's in her dress robes, and his father won't wear a tie unless it has some variant of Ravenclaw's royal blue. He's grown up hearing tales of all four houses, of the four founders, of famous witches and wizards to come from each -- Steve can find it in himself to appreciate every house, no matter what anyone says.

But since he's been a little boy, it's been the generally-accepted fact that he is a Gryffindor, through and through.

At eleven years old, with blonde hair, and shining, eager blue eyes, Steve stands on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, more nervous than he's ever felt in his life. He's changed in and out of his robes five times since he woke up this morning, and has changed the part in his hair about three.

" Sweetie, you'll be fine, " Sarah murmurs consolingly, smoothing down his hair. Steve bites his lip, shifting his weight from one leg to another, and glances nervously over her shoulder where some big kids -- much, much bigger kids -- are following each other into the train.

" What if ... " Steve starts, unable to find the words to describe his worst fears, his biggest anxieties over this, but Joseph Rogers smiles knowingly, and crouches down beside his son.

" Steve Rogers, you will enjoy your time at Hogwarts, you will make wonderful friends, and you will have some of the best years of his life, " he states, grinning broadly. Steve, still nervous, shoots his father a dubious look.

" But how do you know ?" he asks, hand twitching against the handle of his trunk.

" Because, " Joseph starts, reaching up to ruffle Steve's hair ( " Joe !" Sarah reprimands, " I spent forever parting that !" ), " That's exactly what happened to me. "

Steve frowns, still dubious, but Joseph picks up on it and sits up, reaching to loosen the blue-and-silver plaid tie around his neck.

" Here, " the man says, reaching over to pull it over Steve's head, fixing the knot up to rest comfortably around Steve's collar, " You'll do great, son. No matter what house you're at. "

" And we'll write you, " Sarah adds, smiling to mirror her husband, to mirror her son. Because Steve's smiling now, bright and unafraid, even if he's just a little nervous when the train whistle sounds. He hugs both his parents, twice, and kisses them on the cheek.

" Promise you'll write ?" he asks, in a last-minute moment of doubt.

" Only if you promise you'll answer, " Sarah responds with a last kiss to his forehead, fixing the part in his hair. Steve waves once more, then turns to run onto the train. He waves out towards his parents, until the Hogwarts Express whistles a second time, and then a third, and he watches himself roll away from them, towards the school he's been waiting eleven years to get into. It's only when he can't decipher his parents' proud, smiling faces, and he gets jostled by a rushing female with a Prefect badge, that Steve allows himself to walk the aisle of compartments, searching for an empty one.

" Come on, Rogers, you can do this, " he mutters to himself, taking a deep breath and ignoring the fact that the voice who speaks it in his head _isn't_ his own, before he reaches up and knocks twice.

" Enter !" a voice calls out, and Steve takes another deep breath before he pushes open, popping his head in to catch sight of a wide grin, and many-a cauldron cake.

" Hi, er, " he starts, before the same voice reprimands him once more: _stop saying er, Rogers, spit sentences out and no one'll contradict you._ Steve swallows, and tries again: " Hi, I'm Steve. Do you mind if I sit here ?"

The other boy shakes his head, motioning Steve over. Thankful, Steve pushes through the doors, dragging his trunk along behind him.

" Here, I can do that for you -- " the boy exclaims, hopping over to lift the trunk with ease. He sets it above the seats, turning to grin at Steve and extand a hand.

" My name's Thor. "

" Steve. "

" You've said that already. "

The boy grins, and he's got the leg of a chocolate frog sticking out of the corner of his mouth, so Steve grins as well.

* * *

Steve's always know he belongs in Gryffindor, but that doesn't ease the feeling he gets when he sits on that stool, in the middle of the Great Hall, and the Hat is placed on his head.

 _" Now, this one's easy, "_ Steve could say he takes the low, murmuring voice with stride, but it'd be a bit of an exaggeration -- it makes him twitch, hopefully not visibly. But he stands his ground, hands folded tightly on his lap, a deceiver of how white-knuckled he is. _" I told you -- easy, "_ the Hat continues. Steve's positive he can hear a smile in the voice, and that, at the very least, makes him smile.

_" You're a brave one, you. Never back down, always chivalrous, yes, I know, it'll be -- GRYFFINDOR !"_

__Steve is beaming by the time the hat is removed, and he waves over at his new friend before crossing to the whooping crowd of scarlet and gold.

It's later that night, when he curls up in his own four-poster bed, stuffed, that he finally allows himself time to think.

" I think you would've been in Gryffindor too, " he mumbles under his breath, curling up and finally closing his eyes.

He'll never admit it, not then, but the sound of the three other boys' breathing eases him to a calm slumber -- in eleven years, he's never had a room to himself. Falling asleep in silence sounds like the worst thing imaginable.

* * *

Steve's known from the very beginning that Gryffindor is the house for him, and before long, the rest of the school is aware of it.

He goes from being the scared, dubious kid on the Hogwarts Express, to Steve Rogers, making a name for himself. Sticking up for the other First Years, even the ones that are larger than him, even the ones in other houses.

The portraits watch as Steve smiles more, watch as, three months, two weeks, and five days into his stay at Hogwarts, Steve finally grins for _no reason_ , and they'll never admit it, but they jump between portrait to portrait, just to follow that smile as he makes his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

His professors watch as Steve takes notes, and smile when he finds himself at ease enough to goof off with the rest of the students. They watch him doze off, and get lost staring outside, watch him forget his homework and arrive, flustered and embarrassed, to admit he hasn't finished the assignment, watch him hand in tests proudly, hesitantly, dejectedly, but most of all, they watch him show up to class every day, eager to learn.

They watch as, in his Second Year, when that First Year tries to kill himself, Steve runs around and makes sure he has the extra time in his day to listen to everyone around him. They watch Steve pick flowers and smile at everyone, pick up books, always with his compliments to hand out. They watch the Second Year class recuperate quickly, and not only just the Gryffindors.

The students, they watch Steve Rogers try out for the Gryffindor Quiddich Team during his Second Year, and, when he doesn't make it, eyes glance out a window as a distraction from class, for a day dream, to appreciate the weather, to devaluate the weather, and see the figure of Steve Rogers, circling drills around the pitch.

He does it again, Third Year, apologizing when he goes over his privatized schedule, and a team shows up for practice. Even the Slytherins have a hard time kicking him out, when he offers to help them set up. The first few times, they think he's spying, but after a while, he's simply waved off and told to _stick to the ground a little, eh ?_

Fourth Year, Steve Rogers tries out again, and makes it as a back-up chaser. When Russ Thomas accidentally takes a bludger to the back of the head during practice, Steve Rogers is strapped into padding, and shows up for the season's first -- Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw.

He apologizes to Russ until he gets kicked out of the hospital wing, and then apologizes to the blue-and-silver plaid tie later that night, the victory still busting through in his smile.

* * *

Steve has never thought of himself as being brave. Even now, with his Head Boy Badge, and the title of Quidditch Captain embroidering his robes, he grins at everyone, stops to listen when he can, and sets his face in determination, not bravado, before a particularly intense-seeming game, or even practice.

He's not brave, he knows this.

He's never had reason to be.

Noble's never been something he's sought-after.

Chivalrous, on the other hand. That's always been the one that's stuck to him.

* * *

Pepper finds out, soon enough, that Steve isn't trying to flirt with her, he's simply this way with everyone. Polite, the poster-child for a Knight in Shining Armour, yet in the halls, there aren't as many dragons as you'd expect a school to have ( minus the few times with Tony, that she rather not think about ), and much less damsels in distress. However, Steve manages to show up at the right time, for almost everything, and it makes Pepper smile, when he comes over to share notes with her, instead of reading over her shoulder, reaching over, and correcting paragraphs without asking ( Tony ), or manhandling Charms notes out of her bag ( Tony again ). Steve actually does his Charms homework, and, in Pepper's book, that sends him passing the Friend Test with flying colours.

Tony had to do a lot of extra credit to get a half-decent mark on that one.

But Steve's a nice addition to Pepper's life. If anything, he offers her comfort because she doesn't have to watch after him, or keep tabs on anything he could get himself up to. Between being friends with Tony Stark, and, well, babysitting Tony Stark, Pepper sometimes finds herself thankful for a peaceful afternoon, doing homework while overlooking the lake; she's never been one to hole up in the library, unless she, Bruce, and Tony, are on one of their massive study session benders, and that's an entirely different story.

It's by the lake that Steve finds her one day, all cheery smiles, broom in hand, arm extended to re-introduce himself as a fellow Prefect, though they'd spoken a few times prior to that. They sit and talk for a few hours, and Pepper has to remind herself to bite back the First Year crush on the smiling Second Year, that was threatening to rise up again. 

* * *

Steve's comfortable with his life, he knows it. And comfort's really the only way to describe it -- he would say happy, but it's more like content. He smiles and gets through his days, but he's not _bursting_ with emotion, save for game days. And that's quite alright with him. Being happy all the time just translates to a different standard of content, doesn't it ?

Because he _is_ happy, it's just not dancing-in-daisies happy, every moment of every day.

Then again, his team hasn't won the Cup yet this year, so he jokes that he's hoarding the emotion until afterwards.

Rhodey pats him on the back, looking exhausted but satisfied in sweats. The two are the last of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team left in the locker room, after a long -- too long -- try out session for a new beater, and chaser. Steve quickly folds up his robes and zips them into his bag, before he and Rhodey commence the treck across the field, back to the castle. He's glad it's still the beginning of fall, not too cold yet, the days are crisp and the nights are cool. He can still go outside and do his homework without having to wear a jacket, and overall, Steve's a lot more relaxed. Though, that might also be due to the fact that he's only been back at school for three weeks, and can't, in all honesty, bring himself to care about the N.E.W.T.s until at _least_ mid-October. At the earliest.

So he welcomes the sight of Pepper and Tony, crossing the courtyard away from the castle.

" Pep, Tony, hey !" Steve calls out. He and Rhodey slow their pace, and the other two quickly catch up.

" Hey, " Pepper greets, smiling at them, " How were tryouts ?"

Rhodey shakes his head, speaking before Steve has a chance to: " Tryouts are done for the day, and we don't speak of them anymore. But, hey, I've gotta go meet for a group project, I'll see you guys later !" He waves, turning to head back into the warmth of the castle.

" That bad ?" Tony asks, raising an eyebrow, and Steve frowns slightly.

" They weren't _bad_ , it's just always hard to go through rounds, especially with two positions to play, and they're both things that need teamwork, " he explains, only to be met by a few beats of silence, where Tony just blinks at him, before he laughs.

" I was just kidding, " is the statement of answer, and Steve can't help the small, ' oh ' that leaves his lips.

" Be nice, " Pepper chides, but even her elbow against Tony's arm doesn't stop him from shrugging and shoving his hands into his pockets. Which, come to think of it, is the first time Steve's seen him do this over the last few years of choice encounters with Tony Stark.

" No hedgehog today ?" he asks, raising an eyebrow in an all-friendly manner, but three years of Quidditch and running through plays hasn't prepared Steve for how quickly Tony's gaze hardens.

" No, " he answers stiffly, before shrugging Pepper's arm off him. " Whatever, I've got work to do too, Pep, " he nods her name in departure, and doesn't even glance over at Steve. He ignores Pepper's indignant cry of, " Tony, seriously !" Soon, the blond is left standing alone with Pepper, watching Tony's retreating back slip back inside, completely and utterly confused. The weight of his duffle sinking into his shoulder under gear, and maybe even a twinge of guilt.

" Did I do something wrong ?" he asks, after a few moments, trying to run through everything that's just happened, and coming up with nothing, until -- " Oh, no, " he says to Pepper, glancing back at the castle, " Did the hedgehog die ?"

Pepper looks confused for less than second, before her eyebrows shoot up and she shakes her head. " Oh, Butterfingers ? No, Butterfingers can't die, at least, I don't think so -- I hope not. Don't mind him, Tony's just a little, er, _protective_ , should we say, about his things ... "

" I've noticed, " Steve mumbles to himself, before he realizes this is Tony's _friend_ , and quickly begins to apologize, but Pepper simply laughs it off.

" Everyone has. You didn't do anything, Steve, don't worry. " She smiles again, and Steve can't help but believe her. He then realizes that they're still standing in the courtyard, and it's beginning to be almost dark.

" What were you two doing out of the castle, anyhow ?" he asks, readjusting the strap of his bag. It's purely out of curiosity -- it's nowhere near curfew, and he's seen Pepper put enough students in their place to realize, if she's running around after curfew, it's for good reason.

" Oh, nothing really, I wanted to get him out of the library so we were going to check up on my plants for Herbology. "

Nodding, Steve glances around for a few moments, feeling as if he should be saying _something_ , before he finally asks, " Well, do you still need to check up on them ? I could walk with you, if you wanted. "

Which is how Steve ends up spending his night in the third Greenhouse with Pepper, tending to a row of something-or-another's and making truly _awful_ gardening puns with her last name. By the time they leave, it's completely dark now, and he thanks the fact that it's only the beginning of September, once more. Pepper seems a little chilly, though, and he'd offer a coat, but he's wearing a shortsleeve shirt and the rest of his attire is sweaty, so Steve simply walks a little faster to get them back inside the castle.

He does, however, ask her if she'd like to join him for a cup of hot chocolate.

* * *

The house-elves are as doting as ever, continuously reserving Steve, and keeping both their hot chocolates filled to the brim. They're perfectly constructed, with a layer of marshmellow and whipped cream on the top, and Pepper warms up quickly. She's declined to eat, seeing as dinner was only two hours ago, and she hasn't just finished running drills _with_ the trainees, not just shouting orders at them. Steve, on the other hand, is famished.

" You know, I didn't find out about the kitchens until my Third Year, " he starts, making sure he's swallowed his food before speaking.

Pepper grins at him, taking a bite of the straw-cookie in her drink. " First night back, Second Year, " she teases, and Steve grins.

" Wow, even after the Feast ?"

" Yeah, well, Tony wanted to show me something about the wizarding world I hadn't known, so I was forced to sneak out of the dormitories, and creep the hallways with him. He led me on some complete goose chase -- we actually met by the portrait of the knitting lady, down the hall ? The git led me around the entire school until we made it to the entrance. "

Steve laughs, shaking his head a little. " Wow, alright, what would the students of Hogwarts do, knowing their beloved Prefect Miss Potts used to _sneak around school_. "

" Oh don't even, " Pepper groans, " I have enough with students thinking I let _Tony_ get away with things -- which, I don't, for the record. He doesn't do anything that's technically breaking school rules, usually. "

Steve nods, busying himself with a bite of steak before he asks, " So, you've known Tony long, then ?" He doesn't expect Pepper to do anything but nod, considering that he's usually seen her in at least some vicinity to Tony, in some manner.

" We met on the train, and have been friends since. He's sort of hard to get rid of, no matter what people say. " She laughs, and a part of Steve wonders why, but Pepper's continuing before he can ask, " I'm sort of his guide, or at least, I was. Explaining the Wizarding World, and he tries to tell me what a car is, or what the point of electricity's supposed to be. " She pauses, to take another sip of the beverage, then adds, " But that was before, he doesn't really need our world explained to him anymore, and now we're sort of stuck with each other. " She shrugs, feigning exasperation, which makes Steve chuckle.

" He seems like a handful, " he offers, " But a good one, I think. I'm not sure. He was in my Care of Magical Creatures class when I was a Fourth Year, but ... "

" Oh no, that's the year the dungeons got flooded, so the classes were put together to save space for extra Potions, right ?" Pepper asks. Steve nods, and she groans. " No, see, whatever he did -- it was only because Clint was in that class with him. He's usually not that bad -- I mean, he can be, but he doesn't really go out enough to _do_ damage in the first place -- but when he and Clint are together ... "

" Yeah, we had flobberworms exploding left and right, and then I think it got into some girl's eye, so her father threatened to sue the school. "

Pepper sighs, gulping down a bit more of the hot chocolate. " That's Tony and Clint for you ... "

They spend a few more moments trading stories back and forth, Pepper moaning over having to deal with not only dealing with Tony, but Clint Barton via association, and Steve listens intently. He knows Clint, as well as you can know a guy when he's drunk and trying to climb above the rafters at the Three Broomsticks. He's in Hufflepuff, with Thor, and it was the latter who'd been throwing the party to begin with; Steve tends to, by default, dismiss anything that happens during one of Thor's parties, knowing full-well that they are an event of their own. He doesn't know much more about Clint, other than his gathering that he's not half-bad a guy -- even if he's Steve's Achilles' Heel when it comes to Quidditch, but that's not Clint's fault. Steve just needs to get better at blocking when the other man shoots.

He's in the middle of talking to Pepper about N.E.W.T. level Charms, when a side door of the kitchens, that Steve swears did not exist three seconds prior, bursts open and out strides Tony Stark, house elf trailing eagerly behind him.

Tony's got a roll of parchment in front of him, eyes scraping over the words, muttering under his breath, but the elf notices them, running forward, it seems. He stops in his tracks when his large eyes catch sight of Steve, and Tony bumps right into him.

" Oi, watch where you're goi -- " Tony starts, finally looking up and catching sight of Steve and Pepper, with their hot chocolates and Steve's food. " Oh. Hey. "

He's got a little frown on his face, one that probably matches Steve's, but Pepper seems unphased by the entire thing. Instead, she turns to wave at the house elf, smiling. " Hey there, " she greets, and Steve watches as he practically _leaps_ in the air out of glee.

Tony ignores this, making his way over to sit on Pepper's other side, and reaches over to steal her cup. " Hi. "

" Did you just come out of the back of the kitchens ?" Steve asks, staring a little, and Tony glances over his shoulder, where the door definitely isn't anymore.

" Uhm. Yeah ? Problem ?"

Steve feels like he should say something here, because he's _Head Boy_ , and, though he's pretty certain that being in the kitchens is allowed ( if not, it's definitely the most tolerated offense to the school's rules ), he's never heard anything about going into the back _rooms_. Then again, he's never even heard of the back rooms. But Tony seems to have forgotten he even addressed the issue. No, instead, he's sitting sideways on the bench, Pepper's cup of hot cocoa in hand, his foot nudging at the house elf that's still speaking with Pepper.

Steve watches, almost in awe, as Pepper turns around to her drink and frowns, and when the house elf exclaims, " I will bring your beverage, Miss Potts !" Tony leans down, wraps his arm around its incredibly-tiny waist, and hoists the house elf to sit on the bench, in between him and Pepper.

" Oi, " Tony calls over his shoulder, " Can one of you come bring Pep more hot cocoa, please ? Stop squirming, seriously, I'm stronger than you, you don't want to go down this path again -- remember _last time_ ?"

The way the house elf stills suddenly, and quiets to a small 'meep' makes Steve want to lean over and listen to this story, of whatever happened 'last time'. He doesn't, of course, simply sits, confused as ever, as another house elf brings Pepper more hot cocoa, and he gets his own refilled -- Tony does too, once he finishes the cup and leans over to whisper in the house elf's ear. Steve is turning to thank the one, now scurrying away with the pot of hot chocolate, when he feels a tug at his leg. He glances down, and is met with the large, curious eyes of the same house elf that had been sitting with Tony, who is not smirking into his cup.

" Yes ?" he asks politely.

" Master Stark would like me to inform you that it is not polite to stare, thank you " the elf says, and Steve's momentarily taken aback by how _young_ he sounds ( not yet to the point of squeaking, or sounding gruff, but more a young child's tone ), before he's rushing back to climb back and regain his place. Tony nods, reaching up to -- is he _scratching behind his ears_ ? Steve blinks in surprise, and then Tony's smirk catches up to him.

" What just happened ?" he asks, food now forgotten.

" It's not polite to stare, " Tony repeats, raising an eyebrow.

" But, he, what ... I've never heard one so young speak before, and never at this school ... " Steve's family has never had a house elf, but he's met a few before, and most the house elves simply go about doing their business. They don't reach over and take written-on parchment, unrolling it with careful fingers.

Tony frowns, and Steve's afraid he's said something wrong again. " He has a name, " is the huff of a response, and Steve blinks.

" Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean ... What is it ?"

Another huff, another frown. " Ask him yourself. " Steve doesn't imagine the edge slipping into Tony's words, and Pepper's sighing into her drink, so Steve turns his attention to the house elf, who sets down the sheet when Tony raises a hand to lower it.

" Hi, " Steve says, " I'm Steve. Steve Rogers -- I was just wondering, what your name is ?"

The house elf blinks at him before he reaches a hand up, and it takes Steve a few moments to realize he's trying to shake his hand. He grins, clasping the elf's hand with his own, and shakes as the elf replies, " My name is U. "

" U ?" Steve repeats, and the elf nods, as does Tony.

" Yes, U. "

" Well then ... Nice to meet you, U. " Steve smiles, pulling his hand away, and out of the corner of his eye, catches how Tony's grinning too -- and Pepper.

" U was a baby when Tony found the kitchens, " she explains, as Tony reaches over to steal a biscuit from Steve's plate and hand it to the elf, " Tony started talking to him, and after a while, I guess he started responding to ' Hey, you !' "

" It's U as in the letter, " Tony corrects, half-paying attention, but Pepper rolls her eyes.

" It's the same thing. Pronounced the same, anyway, " she adds, when Tony looks up to give her a reproachful glare. Steve hums in thought, nodding as he turns back to his food.

U stays with them for the following hour, until the three decide they should probably head back to their respective dormitories.

When they leave, U curtsies at Pepper, shakes Steve's hand, and he doesn't miss the pat on the head Tony gives him -- or the small hug the elf wraps around Tony's leg.

* * *

He doesn't try to make a habit of it, but with Quidditch and his teenage-male appetite, Steve finds himself in the kitchens most nights. Sometimes, Pepper joins him, other times, Rhodey, or their friend Bruce, or a combination of persons. But whenever Tony's there, U comes out and settles himself on the bench, and every time, U shakes his hand goodbye.


	4. Chapter 4

The train ride from King's Cross Station to Hogwarts is the longest one of Bruce Banner's life.

He's afraid. He's been afraid before, of course, been more afraid than now, been terrified to the very pit of his stomach, immobile, afraid to even breathe -- but that doesn't dismiss the fact that he's afraid, right now. A lot of it has to do with how nervous he feels, how skittish -- he keeps looking over his shoulder, on the edge. Ready for someone to bust into the compartment, where he sits by himself, and haul him out.

Take it back. Take back everything he's heard, everything he's been excited for, since he got his letter, since he sat, curled up into his room and cried out of happiness -- for the first time in his life.

It's too good to be true, Bruce keeps telling himself, and nothing, not even the cup of tea in the heating mug his mother had given him, six years ago, is helping calm his spirit.

When the door of the compartment swings open, Bruce pretends he doesn't jump. He doesn't do a very good job pretending.

" -- so they decided to form this school, and that's why each of the houses has the founders' names, " a small, redheaded girl concludes, speaking to a smaller-looking boy, with large eyes and a thoughtful expression. " Oh, look -- Hi, do you mind if we sit here with you, most the compartments we've found have been full. "

It takes Bruce a few moments to register that she's speaking to him, but when he does, he breaks out into a grin. These two want to share a compartment with him, and there's nobody standing around with a wary glance, ready to hold them back.

" Of course, come in. "

They nod their thanks and drag their trunks in -- or, duffel bag, in the case of the boy -- before seating themselves across from where Bruce is.

" I'm Pepper, " the girl introduces, holding her hand out to Bruce. He nods, grinning, and shakes it.

" Bruce, " he adds, before turning to the boy, holding his hand out the same way.

" Tony. "

They shake hands, and sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, Bruce letting the realization sink in that he actually has a chance to make _friends_ , for what seems like the first time. And this, after the initial happiness, makes him nervous. He wants to say something, spark up a conversation, but he can't think of anything to say. Instead, he peers over the brim of his cup, watching the two. They're sitting in a relaxed silence, Pepper looking out of the window, excited. He takes note of how her hands are folded on her lap, eager and impatient. The boy, Tony, is more focused on glancing around the compartment. It's he who ends up breaking the silence.

" So, are we invisible in this train, or is Hogwarts just really hidden ?"

Bruce watches as Pepper turns to Tony, and starts explaining: " Hogwarts has protective charms, I think, so that Mug -- non-wizarding folk can't see it. "

" So what do they see ?" Tony asks, with a slight frown. Pepper hums, trying to think of the answer, so Bruce takes a silent deep breath, and wills himself to speak.

" They see an abandoned building with a sign that says, DO NOT ENTER, " he answers, proud of himself for getting the words out without seeming too shaky. Tony and Pepper look up at him, eyebrows raised, and Bruce fights through his nervousness, adding, " I have Hogwarts: A History, in my bag, if you, uh. If you want to skim through it ? It explains some of it in there ... " He almost stops himself, but it's too late. Why would these kids want to be _reading_ on the train ? It's ridiculous, stupid, stupid Bruce. He should've just explained and left it at that --

" Yeah ? That'd be great. " Tony's statement interrupts Bruce's internal monologue, before it can get too far, for which he's thankful. He erupts into a grin, standing up to start poking through the trunk he has put away, and comes back with the secondhand, worn book he's been reading over, since he was told there was a chance of him having a wizarding education. He hands it over to Tony, who smiles at him, and promptly sits on the floor, opening it up on his lap. Pepper chuckles, turning to Bruce.

" Thanks. I hadn't realized how much I hadn't bothered asking my parents before coming here, " she says, and it's so genuine, it makes Bruce smile even more.

" No problem, " he answers, " Did your parents go to Hogwarts ?"

Pepper nods fondly. " My mum did, she was a Gryffindor. My dad's an American wizard. You ?"

So Bruce finds himself in the middle of his first real conversation with someone his age, in a long, long time. It's made better when Tony shows them what Pop Rocks are, when he pulls a pack out of his backpack, and later, they take revenge on him not explaining what they are, exactly, by having him buy a chocolate frog when the food cart comes around.

By the time the Hogwarts Express makes it to the school, and the three scramble onto a small rowboat together, Bruce's stomach aches a little from all the laughter. It's the first time this has ever happened, and he doesn't want it to end.

* * *

He's nervous again, when " BANNER, BRUCE " gets called, and all eyes are on him. When the Hat gets placed on his head, his heart is pounding so fast, the blood pounding in his ears so loudly, he almost misses the low murmur of a voice, almost in his head.

But not.

Bruce knows what it's like to have a voice in his head, and this isn't it.

 _" You're a special one, aren't you ?"_ it speaks, and Bruce wrings his hands together nervously. _" So much doubt, now, why would you have that ?"_

Bruce wants to answer, wants to step forward and let the biting rage seep through -- why _shouldn't_ he doubt himself, life hasn't really given him reason to prove otherwise. His anger flares, teeth grinding down against each other, jaw settling tight, and the voice speaks with a comforted murmur, so reassuring that Bruce can't help the sigh that escapes his shoulders.

_" There's nothing for you to doubt, even on the Full Moon. "_

His first instinct is to freeze up, to wonder what's going on, how the Hat knows, but Bruce has stopped questioning things a while ago. Some people just know. Why should he disregard a talking hat, to go along with that category ?

 _" You're a much better person than you deem yourself to be, "_ is the Hat's last comment, before he roars out, _" GRYFFINDOR !"_ and Bruce opens his eyes to a cheering table. He smiles, almost nervously, and thinks he imagines the Hat's whisper of, _" much braver, too. "_

* * *

Bruce is nervous once more, sitting by himself, so, so happy that he's here. Being Sorted, it's the stepping stone he's never though he'd be able to surpass, but here he is, sitting at the Gryffindor table, looking up where the rest of the students are being sorted. And he feels it, in the pit of his stomach -- the churning of anxiety, when Potts, Virginia is called. When she gets placed in Gryffindor, Bruce lets out a breath he wasn't sure he'd been holding, and smiles, so very wide when she bounces happily over to sit next to him. She swings an arm around his shoulder, for a happy hug, and gets high fived by a Second Year.

When Stark, Anthony, gets called up, and placed into Ravenclaw, both Pepper and Bruce let out a disappointed sigh, but cheer as they watch their friend -- because Bruce has _friends_ now -- head over to the cheering, blue-clad table.

* * *

He's never been this happy before. It's the little things, like how Pepper waits for him in the Common Room before breakfast, or how Tony sits next to him in their Double Potions class, making them the only non-monochromatic table for the first week and a half.

He's still afraid, under the happiness. When he goes home for holidays, or sits alone in his room at night, nearing a full moon. Those times are the worst. He takes to going down into the Common Room, and reading until he falls asleep in front of the fireplace, takes to hoarding himself in the library, when he knows the time is coming soon.

Tony joins him there, too.

* * *

He gets used to it, too. After a while. Used to all the minor kinks and tweaks, to be made to a friendship.

Gets used to the fact that Tony sometimes does what he wants, without consequence, and how he can't be bothered to take notes in Charms, but he'll have a potion perfected before anyone else. Gets used to how aggravating it is, to work, and work, and see Tony grasping concepts twice as quickly. How Pepper sighs, that one Pepper-sigh, that means she's really more amused than anything, and he can tell when Pepper is really exasperated. He can also tell when she's about to be about seventy percent less patient, for five days out of the month, but that doesn't get mentioned either.

More than anything, he gets used to being absolutely afraid for his friends.

* * *

He's on his way to his Herbology class, when he feels his arm get grabbed, and the gruff importance of Scott Summers' voice, Head Boy, telling him to, " Come with me. "

Bruce isn't quite sure where they're going, but he hasn't even been here a full month -- who can blame him for getting confused ? The Beast growls inside of him, and he's feeling more on the edge, especially because the full moon is in three days. Herbology was supposed to be his last class, before he hides away, and pretends he can handle this, but it seems as if the school authorities have a different course of action in mind.

Pepper is already standing in Fury's office, when Scott brings them inside. He seems grim, and Scott is tight-lipped, standing next to the Head Girl -- a pretty brunette, in Hufflepuff robes, that Bruce doesn't recognize.

" I'm afraid I have some news for the two of you, " Fury starts, and Bruce feels his weight shift from foot to foot, heart pounding. He's racking his brain, trying to figure out what's going on, each option more frightening than the other, and he feels his body tense in expectation, ready to flee, or worse: pounce.

" It's about your friend, Tony Stark. "

" What happened. " It's not a question, and Bruce surprises even himself with speaking, but his hands are gripped tightly at his side, and with the wary look Scott's giving him, Bruce knows that the male must have some sort of indication of who, or what, Bruce is.

Fury sighs, before speaking, and the words hang heavy in the air: " It seems, he attempted to commit suicide earlier this morning, and was found a few moments ago by one of the boys that share his room. "

Pepper gasps, hands going up to cover her mouth, eyes wide in horror, and Bruce's blood is pumping, too hard, too angry, too shocked. He's _scared_ , and he doesn't know what to do.

" He was rushed to St. Mungo's, and they haven't given us anything yet. Once we figure this out, we'll let you know, but I just have one question: has he said _anything_ to possibly tip you off ? Shown any signs ?"

The two remain frightened, and Bruce doesn't think he could answer, even if he had one to give. He's frozen, afraid that, if he moves, it'll unleash a chain reaction within himself, and he's not quite sure he wants to see where that goes.

" I know this is a lot for you to take in, " the Head Girl adds, voice soft and reassuring, " But this could really help us -- "

" No. " Pepper's voice interrupts the girl, and even she looks a little surprised at herself, before she shakes her head, and stares at them, Fury, Scott, the Head Girl, with determined eyes. " He hasn't shown any sign, said anything. Not a word. "

It's in that moment, watching Pepper stare down three of the most authoritative figures of the school, without fear of her own fate in her eyes, that Bruce decides: he's lucky he's made these friends.

He thinks it again, the day Tony returns, looking shaken and wearing a sweater that's too big for his body. The halls are whispering -- have been, for the past two weeks -- and every eye in the school is on Tony Stark. But that doesn't stop Pepper from marching up to him, Bruce in-tow, and hugging him, before linking her arm through his, and offering a very impressive death glare to anyone -- even the Seventh Years -- who dares look too long.

Bruce steps in beside her, and decides, this is the sort of friends he wants to have.

When they stay up all night in the Gryffindor Common Room, nobody saying a word to Tony's blue-lined robes, and all fall asleep, curled up on one of the couches, Tony looks up at them, a mixture of defeat, persistence, and desire to say something that simply won't come out, lining his eyes. All he comes up with is, " Thanks, " and that's all that needs be said.

* * *

It's taken time, Bruce will admit that. The friendship that started on the train, that was reinforced by _support_ ( on way too many fronts ), it takes time, and effort, sometimes it takes dealing with Tony's attitude, or Pepper's moods, and it involves a lot of exasperation, but Bruce wouldn't trade it for the world.

Because when he sits, nervous beyond belief, staring at his hands, trying to work up the will to speak, racking his brain to find the seventh variation of the third speech he wrote, for this exact moment, when he can't find the words he's been dreading to say, Butterfingers squeaks from inside Tony's pocket, and Bruce looks up, to see his friend, the Third Year who managed to transfigure a quill into a hedgehog, a living, breathing animal, who needs to _eat_ , and poop ( on Pepper's clothing, usually, much to the redhead's annoyance ), who embraces the fact that he carries an animal around with him, well, that's all Bruce needs.

It seems so normal for him to grab an extra sheet of parchment, and write, _I'm a werewolf_ on it, staring at the three words for so long, his vision blurs. He blinks away the haze, then passes it across the table and waits, in the Hogwarts library, as he shares his very first secret to his very first friend, ever. Tony's curious as ever, so of course he leans over, reads it over Pepper's shoulder, and shrugs.

Pepper looks up and raises an eyebrow at Bruce, Tony goes back to his work.

He thinks they already know, that at least Tony assumes, but they still sit and let him explain later.

* * *

By the time he reaches his sixth year, Bruce is a lot happier, a lot more content with his life, than he's ever assumed he would be, especially in the teenage years.

He finds himself doing homework with Tony in the library, or forced to sneak out in order to pick up the special-ordered package of hedgehog food for Butterfingers, and there's that Christmas vacation where he and Tony both go over to Pepper's home, and feel the holiday in the air, for the first time in a very, very long time.

He still doesn't think of himself as brave, or noble, or daring, and a part of him thinks maybe Ravenclaw would be the better house, or Slytherin, when the Beast gets defensive, and he can't help but consider his primitive instincts -- but at the end of the day, Bruce is glad for Gryffindor, glad for its Common Room, glad for his house.

The best moments, for Bruce, are those where he can find himself comfortably surrounded by these new friends, maybe discussing something, maybe sitting in silence, working, reading, passing the time, but always with a blanketing sense of belonging.

* * *

" -- still being obscure towards where he even _stands_ with the propositions running around -- "

" And you think that's a good thing ?"

Bruce shrugs, fingering the pages of the book he'd set aside half an hour earlier, when this discussion began.

" It's not a bad thing. Not everyone has to be set in stone with everything, there's always room for potential -- "

" Yeah, when you're an everyday man. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have a Minister of Magic who won't even pick sides -- "

" He hasn't _not_ picked sides, " Pepper points out, interrupting Rhodey's argument, " It's still early, maybe he's going with a more informal approach to the campaign. "

 _That_ gets Rhodey's attention, and he snorts. Pepper sends him a wary glare, but he ignores it easily, " What, waiting to see where his biggest fan-base is, then going for their opinions ?"

" No, " she answers, looking up from her notes, " But proposition-standings aren't the only thing people are after, he could be using a back-alley tactic. If anything, it's working: we're talking about him now, aren't we, and the running hasn't even _started_ yet. "

Bruce nods along, agreeing with her, and Rhodey shakes his head.

" Look, all I'm saying is, this man is going to be leading the Wizarding World -- I'd rather know what his opinions are on certain things, or what he's trying to do. "

" I'm not saying I want that either, " Bruce points out, leaning so his elbows are on his knees, and looks over at both Pepper -- who's sitting beside him on the couch -- and Rhodey -- commandeering his own arm chair -- before he continues, " I just don't think we should dismiss him, simply because he's been addressing other issues. "

Rhodey huffs, about to protest, but Bruce cuts him off with a patient tone, " Besides, Pepper's right -- we're still in the preliminary rounds, it's not like he has to get everything out in the open now. My bet's that half the candidates will have dropped by the end of the month, you never know. "

" Well of course, I narrow it down to two applicants and the rerun, " Rhodey replies, just as a voice sounds from behind the couch, interrupting their conversation.

" Hey, guys. "

" Steve, hey, " they all greet, Bruce scooting over on the couch so that Pepper can do the same, and Steve sits at her other side.

Soon enough, they settle back into a comfortable silence, save for Steve and Pepper's low-murmured discussion over Prefect rounds and homework. Bruce smiles, yawns, stretches, and when he finally admits defeat, when Rhodey tells him that he be the one to sneak off, to go check up on Tony in the library tonight, Bruce packs his things up and bids the still-working Steve and Pepper a goodnight.

He curls up in his bed, internally counting how many nights he has left until the full moon ( ten ) but consciously realizing that he doesn't really care.

Bruce falls asleep with a smile on his face, and it's not the first time.

* * *

Steve and Pepper announce that they're dating, and nobody seems to bat an eye.

Thor shouts his approval across the Great Hall during lunch, clapping Steve on the back and making the both of them blush.

Bruce congratulates them, Rhodey nodding along, and telling Pepper it's now her job to keep Steve from assigning morning practices.

Tony says they have to go tell U, and adds that he wants to throw them a congratulatory party.

( Clint hears the word party, runs over, and the idea gets shot down before Tony and Clint start plotting together, before Thor decides to join in. )

U is ecstatic, and it takes the tight grip of Tony's arms around him to keep the house elf from running into the kitchens and making them something to eat. It's an adventure that ends with Steve, Pepper, and Tony cooking in the kitchens, trying to make a cake. Which, really, means that it ends with Tony sitting it out, once Pepper flicks flour onto Steve's nose, and they smile a private smile at each other, one too many times. He grabs U and hauls him on his shoulders, slipping away into the back rooms of the kitchens, mumbling something about herbs.

Steve and Pepper don't really notice, but Tony doesn't blame them.

Instead, he makes U laugh, and it sounds like a mix between a squeak and a snort, so he's more than content with the day's outcome.

* * *

Steve and Pepper dating means that Tony has to allow himself to open up a little more, to agree that he has more friends than simply Pepper, Bruce, and Rhodey. Because Clint isn't a friend, Clint's his partner-in-crime, the one person who sometimes understands Tony _without_ being reproachful about it.

And then Steve comes along, and Tony assumes it's alright, because he's good for Pepper, he really is.

She smiles a lot more, and doesn't seem as concerned about Tony's eating habits ( she's never happy, complains when he forgets to eat, complains when he eats his way through three meals in one sitting, and is talking about food again in an hour, absolutely ridiculous ). Whatever gets her off of Tony's back, is cause for celebration.

She doesn't even berate him for sleeping through Charms class, because he aces the test anyway. When he walks out in the middle, though, she raises a reproachful eyebrow, and it makes Tony grin so wide, his cheeks hurt for an hour afterwards.

Because he knows Pepper will always be one of his best friends, even if she's got this new boyfriend in her life, and that's okay with Tony. Say what you want about him, about his inability to share, it's all true -- his things are his -- but he's realized that Pepper is not a _thing_ , nor is she to be deemed as _his_.

She's not Steve's, either. He makes sure the blonde is well-aware of that.

Clint laughs a lot, when Tony approaches Steve, and does nothing but state, " You will never own her, but you better damn-well take care of her. " Tony slips him a potion that makes him chirp like a bird for the next week. At first, everyone yells at Tony, but he tells them to ignore the chirps. By the third day, twenty-three Hufflepuffs have already come up to him and thanked him for the fact that Clint Barton has now shut up.

He doesn't even bother counting how many students from other houses have done the same.

* * *

Halfway through September, a bill is proposed, to regard centaurs as equals, on every aspect, to witches and wizards. The castle is in uproar, and mostly in positive spirits.

Bruce, out of everyone, is the most excited for this.

" It's not even the rubbish, we-will-give-alternate-rights-that- _seem_ -the-same, that usually passes as a law, " he explains to Thor, who joins them now, sometimes, and Tony guesses it's okay. They're doing homework in the Great Hall today, which means that most of them simply have books out, and are eating food instead. There's a chess board in the middle, and everyone's sort of taking turns playing, which makes for increasingly frustrated chess pieces.

" C'mon, Bishop to F-5, " Steve is pleading, and Thor is taking the break from playing to listen to Bruce's explanation.

" If the bill passes, they'll be giving the _exact same_ _rights_ to centaurs, which just opens up this whole new window to other magical creatures, and folk -- anyone who isn't a witch or a wizard, really. "

Thor nods, glancing over and quickly mumbling, " Pawn to C-4 " once Steve's bishop has finally decided to move. " If this law is so great, why has there not been attempt to propose it in the past ?"

Bruce frowns, leaning over Pepper to commandeer one of the rooks, then turns back to Thor. " There has been, a few times. But it usually doesn't get through the initial process, and this is the second time it's ever been turned into a bill -- the first time it's ever had a real chance of winning. "

" But it's a good thing, it's counterproductive if it could have been passed years ago. Queen to A-7. "

Bruce nods at this, sighing a little, and avoids Pepper's gaze on him before he answers, " The Wizarding World isn't always open to new things, is the problem. What with the goblin revolutions, and tension between blood status -- we can't even agree within our race, it's taken too long for us to agree on others'. "

Thor nods. " I understand. There was such talk of this back home, arguments for passing veela off as witches and wizards, though we were the first to allow this. " Bruce nods, considering this; it's too easy for him to forget that Thor left for two years, continuing his studies in northern Europe, at another wizarding school, before returning to Hogwarts for his fourth year -- this past week has probably been the most he's ever spoken to the Hufflepuff Beater, after all. " It makes for a miserable era, when we realize we fail to accept even our own, and throw any with the slightest sliver of difference out back. " His tone is solemn, and it has nothing to do with how his knight takes down Steve's queen with a happy whoop. Steve groans, sinking to the table, Pepper laughing and patting his back reassuringly.

" You'll get him next time, " she teases, before looking up and adding, " It's unfair in any case, because we've learned over the years that purebloods don't necessarily make someone a better witch or a wizard -- why shouldn't that apply to half-breeds ?"

Bruce smiles a little, not missing the reassuring little glance Pepper sends him, and Clint, who's attempting to charm his book to turn words into images, snorts.

" Exactly, look at Stark. Look at any of the Muggle borns at this school, who do a hell of a lot better than some of the purebloods, no offense, " he adds, making Pepper roll her eyes.

" Just because we all come from wizarding families, doesn't mean we're die-hard martyrs of that cause, " she states, and Thor's eyebrows furrow slightly.

" I'm afraid we're not the only ones with such a stands, " he starts, motioning to himself, " I come from an ancestry full of pure bloods, and though I don't feel there is much pressure on continuing as such, there is pressure that comes with owning up to a largely-held name. Or, at least, adhering to what it asks of us. "

Bruce lets this mull over in his head a little, as Thor checkmates Steve's kink with his bishop, and the blonde sighs, looking up.

" It's just sort of scrambled, " Steve offers, shrugging a little, " Like, you know Sif ? Gryffindor, my year ? Usually hangs out with Thor ?" Clint, Bruce, and Pepper nod, and Steve continues, " Well she tells mer her family was really behind her getting into Gryffindor, it's that sort of thing that really makes you think -- my parents didn't really care where I got in. "

" Not everyone's that lucky, though, especially when every house has its own connotation, " Bruce points out, willing himself not to rethink his own sorting.

Clint grunts in response, shaking his head. " That's why it's bullshit, " he mutters, looking up and slamming his book shut. " We're a school, we can't even unite within four walls, because one house is supposedly better than another ? That's not House-pride, that's just stereotyping. "

" Now, that's going a bit far ... " Steve starts, drumming his fingers over the table, " I think it's a mix of both. House traits can be seen a certain way, but then you have the House stereotypes, and that just goes either way as well -- but nobody's ever really going to let that one go in peace. "

" It's still bullshit, " Clint replies, " It's like how everyone assumed Stark was supposed to be in Slytherin, all because of what happened -- where was the House trait for that ? Nowhere. But people assume. "

" That's just rumours, though, " Pepper starts, and Clint shrugs.

" Doesn't matter, once someone decides they have some truth to them, we're all screwed. " With that, he gets up, grabbing his book and nods at the group, turning to make his way back to the Hufflepuff Common Room. He leaves the other four to their thoughts, which slowly turns into a much less hearty dicussion about the new bog creatures to be creeping around this Fall, and the chances of the Quidditch Season's first game. It's during this discussion that Pepper rolls her eyes and declares she's going to go take a nap, kissing Steve before she leaves. Bruce lasts about five minutes into a Quidditch-centric discussion, before he, too, decides that discussion Slytherin plays aren't really his cup of tea.

* * *

The bill passes its first screening round the week of Tony's birthday, and he declares that it's large enough a cause to incorporate into the party.

Which means, Tony decides to throw a party _for_ the bill, that just so happens to fall the weekend after his birthday.

Bruce will never bring it up to Tony, and Tony will never admit it, but they're both aware that Tony's birthday falls the night before a full moon, and he wouldn't have been able to make it to the festivities.

He takes notes in Charms for Tony anyway, as a thank you. Tony snorts and gives him the Potions notes, from the day of class he misses, and Bruce smiles.

He's still a little sore, a week later, covered in slowly-healing bruises, and it hurts a little when he shoves breakfast down his throat. The centaur-bill-slash-Tony's-birthday party is happening tonight, and Bruce knows, from experience, that Tony, or Clint, will find some way to pour drinks down his throat. He also knows that he should start eating early, and he's _hungry._

Tony's sitting with them today, at Gryffindor's table, and Pepper leans over to kiss his cheek the moment his disgruntled face makes it over.

" Happy birthday, Tony !" she exclaims, as he, Rhodey, and Steve murmur in agreement. Tony's thanks is swallowed by a yawn, and when he's finished, he doesn't even bother repeating himself, just shovels his way through a bowl of oatmeal. Clint comes over to throw confetti that _sings_ over Tony's head, and it takes Tony forcing him to swallow a mouthful of said confetti for them to shut up. Truce called, Clint shoves himself on Tony's other side, shooing away a Second Year for the spot, and steals himself a croissant.

To the others' amusement, Clint manages to fashion a hat out of the confetti, placing it promptly on Butterfingers' head, when the mail arrives.

The covers of the Daily Prophet are still describing the centaur bill, and Pepper reads one of the newer articles, leaning her arm against Steve, him reading over his shoulder. He looks up, however, when a distressed looking owl lands in front of Tony ( which quickly reaches to grab Butterfingers and hide him under the table ), pecks at his shoulder, then flies off, leaving a letter in the half-eaten, third bowl of oatmeal.

" That was rude, " Tony huffs, pulling the envelope out and wiping it, on Clint's shoulder. The latter scowls and pushes Tony away, but he doesn't seem to care, just shrugs and sets the envelope down inside his back.

" Don't want to open that ?" Steve asks, curiously, and Tony raises an eyebrow, then shrugs a second time.

" It's just a birthday note, from my parents, probably, " he answers, nonchalantly, before reaching over to grab a banana. " I'll read it later, it might sight. "

" I don't think a singing card would be much a surprise now, Bruce points out, and Clint smirks, Tony rolling his eyes.

" Exactly, I already had one off-tune rendition of some shitty song, I don't need a second. Anyway, " he adds, slipping Butterfingers ( still with his hat on ) into the side pocket of his robes and getting up from the table, " I'm gonna go turn in a paper, and then head off to Hogsmeade, if anyone wants to join later. " Without waiting for an answer, Tony turns and leaves the Great Hall, leaving Clint to steal the last bowl of oatmeal.

* * *

Later that night, Clint is sitting on Thor's shoulders, the two roaring along to Witch Weekly's seventh hottest band of the year, Clint with a bottle of Firewhiskey in hand.

The very-amused members of the crowd, those sober enough to take in what's going on more than simply laughing at it, are keeping their distance, because nobody wants two inebriated Quidditch players to fall on them. They're gathered together in the old Astronomy lecture room -- which is halfway up the Astronomy tower, and has spent all afternoon being bewitched by Tony, Rhodey, and Bruce. The silencing spells have been placed from the bottom of the tower, up the three flights of stairs to get to the room, and if anybody manages to accidentally make his or her way up, Tony will be incredibly surprised. He even found a discretion potion, made three batches, let it ferment for the seven days, as it was supposed to, and poured it over the steps of the tower -- in all honesty, Tony wouldn't be surprised if the students became unable to find the tower on Monday, he's simply that good.

So there's no real fear of getting caught, not with the precautions they've taken, and so far, the only rules of the party are: nobody steals Butterfingers ( who's currently resting on Tony's shoulder ), nobody ask anything of the house elves, and, if you finish a bottle and fail to summon one to replace it, from where Tony has opened a clear pathway, out of the window facing East and across the grounds ( he may have had help from Steve and Rhodey for this one, using one of the boxes in the Quidditch stands ), then, why are you here in the first place ?

Tony's already had to kick out a few First Years, who think that attending a party to drink a Butterbeer and a half and then start hiccuping is the cool thing to do.

He's smiling, though, happy from where he sits on the couch, in between Steve and a passed-out Seventh Year. Thor's friend Sif is talking to Pepper, and Tony had taken it as an invitation to steal her seat, because he's really quite drunk, and couches are always leagues more comfortable than standing up, anyway.

" Hey, " Steve greets, grinning at Tony, and Tony grins back.

" Hey. "

" Having fun ?"

Tony snorts at the statement, at how clichéd and expected it is, and at the fact that nobody's asked him this since the beginning of the night, if at all. Still, the response comes easily, with a nod, and the return of a question.

Steve's got a Butterbeer in hand, and raises it to Tony, mumbling, " Cheers, " before he finishes it off. With a lazy flick of his wand, it goes flying to the disappearing pile of finished containers, two more bottles get summoned over, and Tony stares a little as Steve hands him the other one. He wants to get up and shout, _Look. Look at how easy that is to do, if I have to pick up one person's bottle just because you're too incapable of putting away ..._

Thankfully, he doesn't. He's not drunk enough to start throwing fits, or maybe he's passed that point, he's really not sure, at the moment. He just knows that the couch is comfortable, and Butterfingers -- he checks -- is now still on his shoulder. Tony reaches up to wrap his hand around him, bringing the hedgehog down to his lap, where he nestles himself in the fold between Tony's thighs.

Tony smiles, reaching down to smooth over the spines, and Steve makes a curious noise.

" Can I hold him ?" he asks, looming over Tony's shoulder. Tony bites the inside of his lip, before he shrugs, and nods. Why not ? He's drunk, it's a good night, and he'll kill Steve if he even _thinks_ about hurting Butterfingers.

Thankfully, the blonde seems to understand this, and carefully takes Butterfingers in his hands. The hedgehog squeaks a little at being displaced, but quickly becomes comfortable, and curls up to Steve's palm, one foot hanging off him. Steve chuckles quietly, reaching a finger up to repeat Tony's actions, smoothing down the spine, and he speaks, after a few moments of silence as they both watch.

" So. What's the story with him ? Butterfingers, right ?"

Tony shrugs a little in response, but then Steve is turning to look at him, eyes big and curious, and Tony can't help the sigh that escapes his lips.

He reaches over, carefully taking the hedgehog in his hands, and leans back against the couch, so that his stomach forms a nice slope on which he sets Butterfingers down.

" I made him, " he answers simply, a small, soft smile on his lips, grabbing the bottle he'd placed between his knees.

Steve nudges his arm, just slightly, and asks, " What do you mean by that ? Pepper says it too, says he's yours, like you created him. "

" I did, " Tony answers, then adds, " It's ... I transfigured him. Out of a quill. "

Steve's eyebrow raises, a mixture of curiosity and bewilderment. " You made an actually hedgehog, out of a quill ?" he repeats, almost in disbelief.

" Yeah. It wasn't just ... I modified a spell, from the book, sort of studied up on it, and I decided to see if I could make something that could actually _be_ the animal, " Tony explains, " So I looked up a few potions, mixed some together, and ... voila. " The way he stares at Butterfingers, a proud glint in his eyes, makes Steve smile.

" Don't they usually have ... Are alive ? When we use regular spells ?" he asks, and Tony's quick to shake his head.

" Not usually. Transfigure a regular object into an animal, and it won't have instincts -- it's just sort of ... There. It'll move around and stuff, but it doesn't need to eat or sleep, it doesn't get cranky, or need attention. Not like you, " he adds, speaking to the hedgehog, " You need a lot of attention, don't you ? You hog. "

But he says it with such tenderness, such sincerity, that Steve smiles again, and closes his eyes as he leans back onto the couch, gulping down half the bottle as he does so.

" I hope Tony hasn't been being too Tony, " Pepper teases, stepping over towards them. Tony looks up from Butterfingers, right as Steve cracks open one eye, and they both grin at her.

" I'm offended, Pep, " Tony exclaims, bringing a hand up to clasp against his heart. Unfortunately, it's the hand where he had his own rather-full bottle, so it sloshed over onto his shirt. " Oops, " he laughs, " I guess I should fix that. Cheers. " Tony raises the bottle up, Steve doing the same, Pepper, with her cup of what looks surprisingly like the hearty drink Sif had made Tony earlier in the night, and they each raise the glasses to their lips.

" To Tony, " Pepper announces, raising her glass a second time, after the first gulp.

" To Butterfingers, to being wicked smart, " Steve adds, and Tony snorts, rolling his eyes.

" To the centaur-bill, that has to pass, " Tony adds, and this time, it's Pepper and Steve that roll their eyes, before all three take another gulp of their drinks. Then Pepper settles herself down on Steve's lap, and Tony takes that as his cue to get up, grabbing the remainder of her drink and knocking it back as he does so. She doesn't notice, and all of a sudden, she and Steve are kissing, and someone ( Tony thinks it's Clint ) is catcalling in the background. There's a large crash, followed by a wave of swearing ( definitely Clint ), and Tony turns in time to see a drunk Clint, and an equally-drunk Thor attempt to help each other up from the ground. He laughs, reaching out and taking another drink from someone, he's not quite sure who, but they're carrying little hotcakes too, so he takes one of those as well, somehow balancing the two in one hand. Butterfingers is scrambling in his hand, so Tony reaches up to set him on his shoulder.

He glances behind him, to where Pepper is curled in the curve of Steve's arm, sitting sideways with her legs on the couch, and they both look so happy, Tony smiles at them before looking away. He sets the empty glass down somewhere, assuming someone else will put it away, and takes a bite of the hotcake. Butterfingers squeaks in his ear, and there's something in the back of Tony's head that alerts him, and he frowns.

" I haven't fed you yet, have you ?" he asks, frowning even more. " We've certainly got to fix that ... " And without further warning, Tony is crossing the room. He somehow makes it down the Tower's stairs without too much commotion, and passes a couple making out, quite vigorously be the door. The man reaches over to clasp his shoulder when he notices Tony, giving him a thumbs up, before becoming too pre-occupied to do much more. Tony doesn't blame him, just laughs, and pushes the door open.

He makes it over to the Ravenclaw Tower without much difficulty, thanks to the back alley route he knows by heart, and soon, he's slipping into the empty room, crossing over to his bed. " Calm down, " he mutters, setting Butterfingers down on the bed, " I'll get you your food. "

From the other side of his bed, Dummy inches his way over, practically mewling sounds at Tony, who smiles. There might be two of the scaled, wombat-looking creature from the way he's looking right now, but that's doesn't stop Tony from reaching out and petting them both -- realizing the left one is simply a mirage. " Good boy, " he mumbles, Dummy reaching up to press his head against his fingers, and Tony almost wants to apologize again, for this science-expirement-gone-wrong that led to Dummy's existence. He doesn't, though, because Tony knows he wouldn't retrace his steps, wouldn't refrain from trying to transfigure an already-living animal, if given the chance -- partially because he's _been_ given the chance, and hasn't taken it.

Instead, Tony reaches into his school bag, rummaging through to find the small bag of dried mealworms.

" Here you go, stop whining, " he mumbles, pouring a handful and setting it on his bed -- ignoring the dubious hygienics of the action. Butterfingers scrambles towards the food, so Tony sits and tugs Dummy onto his lap, trying to steady himself a little. He's feeling dizzy, and right now, sitting on his bed is really helping his sense of direction. If he's being honest, he doesn't quite remember the entire trip over to the Ravenclaw Tower, and he thinks he might have a bruise forming, from knocking against a statue.

He glances around the darkened room, in attempt to steady his brain out, waiting for the dizzying to stop, when he catches sight of an envelope peeking out of his bag. Tony frowns a little, reaching over to grab it, and a few flakes of now-dried oatmeal fall to the floor. Dummy falls off his lap, and scoots over to eat them, which makes Tony snort.

" Don't gotta put everything in your mouth, " he mumbles, but wipes off the rest of the dried oatmeal flakes anyway, watching them fall in a pile in front of Dummy. He draws his attention back to the letter, but his eyes are too unfocused for him to read the fine print of the sender's address -- the seal on the back indicates his previous thoughts, that it comes from his house. There's the seal, and when he opens it up, he can already tell that the letter has been typed, probably handed to his father to sign, absentmindedly. Howard probably has no idea what the letter even says. Tony sighs a little, squeezing his eyes shut, willing his thoughts to keep at bay, at least until he's drunk enough to handle them ( read: too drunk to register them ), then shakes his head, and pulls the paper out. He can read these ones, a little more clearly than his half-hearted attempts at deducing the envelope's coordinates.

Two lines in, and Tony realizes: this might not be a good thing.

In fact, he gets to reading, _Mister Stark --_

 _I'm writing to inform you, that your mother has passed --_ and stops there.

Tony lets the letter and envelope fall to the ground; when Dummy starts chewing on the edge of the latter, he doesn't even try to stop him, doesn't even notice it.

No, it's not a good thing he's focused enough to read, not at all.


	5. Chapter 5

Tony wants to say that his world crashes down around him.

He wants to say that the walls of the room crumble, that his throat closes on itself, lodged in his throat, that his body is closing in itself, he wants to scream and go crashing towards the floor, grab his hair and pull, cry, cry until his eyes dry out and his throat is sore, vocal chords threatening to tear -- he wants to say all of this happens.

But he can't.

Tony sits, staring at the floor, but he's not really watching Dummy eat the rest of the dried oatmeal, he's not hearing Butterfingers chewing on his snack, he's just ... There.

Because the sad truth, the fact of the matter, the thing he knows will get him called heartless, for how very, very real it is, is this: if there was ever a time in Anthony Edward Stark's life for him to slowly raise, and lower, both shoulders, it is now.

He's got the news of his mother's passing resting on the floor in front of him, half on some estranged scarf he's acquired over time, and all Tony Stark can think of doing, is shrug.

He wishes he could hate himself for it, he really does.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Tony blinks once. Twice. Three times, and then sighs.

He sits there for a few more moments, letting it seep in.

The letter goes unread, but Tony will read it later. In two, three days, he'll see it on the floor of his room, sigh, and finally pick it up to read. He'll learn that his parents were in a car accident, that his mother dies, but his father survives. That Howard will be contacting him with whatever news he needs to know. He'll read the entirety of the letter, then shove it back into his bag, between sheets of parchment, completed homework, between notes and reading, between scraps of his daily life, this reminder that it ends. Just like that.

For now, though, he tries not to think of it. It's his _birthday_ , or it's supposed to be.

It's not, though. Tony knows it, as well as anyone. This, this celebration, it's not for his birthday, it's for the bill -- the one that's one step closer to being passed, that brings the wizarding community one step closer to accepting centaurs as being one of them. That proves the maturity of the people, that shows hope for acceptance in the future. The bill that shows there is a chance, a chance for Bruce, and for anyone else, and that's cause for celebration.

Not his stupid birthday. It's not even his birthday -- he's been sixteen for five whole days already. Just because there's a party going on right now, doesn't mean it's for him, even if he's pretty sure there's a cake.

Cake. Party. Right.

Sighing a little, Tony breaks himself out of his daze, drawing himself back to the room, to his bed, to where Dummy is now staring at him, a sock in his mouth, and Butterfingers has made his way over to the side of his leg.

" C'mon, " Tony mumbles, taking Butterfingers in his hand, " Let's go, Dummy, eat anything on the floor and I will transform you into a saucer -- don't think I won't. " Regardless, he reaches over to trace over Dummy's scales, and smiles at the little murmur of content that comes from the creature.

" Showtime, " he adds, making the blind stumble back to the lecture hall.

* * *

It's not that Thor Odinson doesn't want to be a Hufflepuff, or a Slytherin, or a Ravenclaw, it's that he expects to be in Gryffindor.

He expects it, and he's expected of it.

If he sits and thinks, really thinks, if he seats himself in front of the family tree on the far-east wall of the foyer in his home, his eyes can follow every member of his family, each one with the Gryffindor seal beside their name. Even family _associates_ are marked, red and gold crests, a lion's mane, all Gryffindor.

So when his name is called, and he smiles warmly at Steve, his new friend, there's not a drop of doubt that flickers across his face. He's going to be in Gryffindor.

 _" Why, so set on your future, "_ the Hat murmurs into his ear, and Thor frowns, just the slightest bit. But he sits strong, shoulders set back, posture proud, even if the hat hangs loosely around his head.

 _Yes_ , he thinks, and that's that.

 _" You shouldn't be, if you're set for a future that isn't yours, "_ the Hat continues, and Thor just brush it off. He's heard the Hat will speak, sometimes, explaining the decision, or simply to converse, so he doesn't let it worry him. He does, however, hear the faint whisper of a chuckle, before the Hat adds, _" You're meant for great things, Thor Odinson, but these things, they're meant to be **yours**. Remember that. Stay true to who you are._ "

It's a bit strange of a request, and, in a moment of weakness, Thor licks his lips. He's not nervous, no, simply ... Confused.

Then the Hat roars out, _" HUFFLEPUFF "_ and the confusion follows as he blinks at the cheering crowd.

" That's ... A mistake, " Thor protests, hissing to the Hat as it's pulled off his head.

The professor, he hasn't really caught her name, frowns a little at him, and when she speaks, her words are firm. " Mister Odinson, I can assure you, the Hat does not make errors. "

" It, but -- " he starts, now aware of how all eyes are on him. His mouth opens and closes a few times, Thor glancing over to the still-waiting line of First Years, where Steve stares at him, offering a smile.

Quickly, almost blindly, Thor shoots up and makes his way over to the yellow-clad robes, where someone pats him on the shoulder, and he gets congratulated by a few more.

Thor doesn't feel as if he should be congratulated, doesn't feel very proud.

There's a moment, yeah, where a Hufflepuff Third Year hands over the last of the pudding, and another starts speaking animatedly to him about her summer, even if she's never met him before.

As the Prefect leads the group to their Common Room, to where Thor will be living for the next seven years of his life, he gets led into a singalong of an old, old wizard's folksong, and a Second Year offers him an Every Flavoured Bean. He might even be smiling, when he's introduced to his new dormmates, and he's so exhausted by the time his head hits the pillow, that he doesn't even dread the Howler that's bound to arrive from his father, the next morning.

* * *

The mail arrives, but it's no Howler.

It's a letter, formally addressed, and it hurts even more.

With a Howler, his father's words can boom, can shame him, and it'll be instantaneous. With a Howler, everyone knows it's his father's disappointment that drives the slump in his shoulders.

With a Howler, they don't know that it's his own.

This, though, this letter, it takes time. It lets Thor's shame seep through his skin, down to his bones, through his veins. It makes him think, sit there, and stir the words over, until he can't take them anymore.

Odin's disappointment, it rings through Thor, silent, but deadly.

He packs his bag up and doesn't go to class, for the first day.

He gets in trouble, of course. Reprimanded by the same professor from before, whose name he still hasn't been able to learn, but he doesn't care. Thor makes it quite obvious he doesn't want to be here, and she seems to pick on, ushering him out of the room with a week's worth of detention to go with it.

It's not shining trophies that gets Thor to go to class, the third day. It's Steve Rogers, who comes and finds him in the Trophy Room, who frowns a little as he leans against a wall, and asks if Thor would like any help. He doesn't wait for a response, just reaches over and starts reorganizing the trophies Thor has finished.

" I don't think you can help, you're not in detention, " Thor points out, but Steve shrugs.

" It's a lot of work, " is the only reply he's given, and they work in silence for almost a minute, before Thor stops and shakes his head.

" No, really Steve, this is my detention, not yours. "

That gets Steve to stop, shoving his hands into the pockets of his too-big robes the gold and red almost taunting Thor.

" Why haven't you been to class ?" Steve asks him, and Thor sighs, then shrugs. He doesn't say much more, so Steve speaks again, " You really should. I have Potions with you, and the professor … He's quite the character. "

" I've … " Thor shrugs again, not really having an answer for it. How does one really explain disappointing a parent for the first time, anyway ? He's not quite sure how to answer that.

Steve stays in silence, then, when Thor doesn't say much more, he sighs. " Well, " he starts, placing a trophy down on the shelf. " When you figure it out, you should come to class. I don't have a partner. "

He leaves, and Thor finishes organizing the trophies within an hour.

When he shows up to Potions the next day, Steve grins widely, and already has his scales set up in front of him.

Thor goes home for Winter Break, and Odin looks disappointed--but Loki is smiling at him the entire break, and helps him sneak a bottle of mulled wine, to drink with Sif, at the family's Christmas party. So, when he leaves to go back to Hogwarts, Thor realizes, things might be alright.

* * *

If anything, Thor knows what it's like to feel as if a part of life has led him down, even if he doesn't mean it.

He respects Hufflepuff, he respects every house easily, and his friends make him laugh, but there's a part of Thor that feels like a disappointment for even wearing the crest, for advertising the colours. If anything, Thor knows what it's like to feel as if life has made a mistake, no matter how little it is. He knows what it's like to put on a brave face -- and not understand why, not completely. So when Tony walks back into the party, with his animal-friend on his shoulder, and smiles as he grabs another flute of bubbling cider, Steve smiles and waves at him, but Thor notices the glimmer behind the Ravenclaw's expression. He notices that there's something there, something that looks almost -- lost.

He doesn't say, but he knows it's the look he still gets, sometimes, when he looks over his life.

Thor wants to say something, but he knows it's not his place. He's too drunk to find a way to slip it into conversation gently, and being subtle has never been a particular forté of his, so instead, he drags Tony over to join them for a singalong, and a few days later, he sits in the library with Tony, building a maze of books for Butterfingers ( it's a strange name, Thor might frown at it a few times ), to keep him out of Tony's hands while the other male tries to work.

Tony doesn't ask him, never once suggests that Butterfingers is a _chore_ , but Thor does it anyway, and Tony's grateful.

He's not lost, neither of them are, but every now and then, life takes a little grounding.

* * *

The summer after his First Year, is what changes Thor's mind about it all.

Winter break was alright, it was bearable, it was only two weeks long, with the week that he spent hanging out at Volstagg's cabin, with his family, and the rest of his friends. But summer ? During the summer, Odin's disappointment is visible, in every sigh, every action, in everything the man does, and Thor loses his temper.

Loki tries to help, coming around with a quaffle and a broomstick, suggesting they play a game of Quidditch, or go into town, but after a while, Thor snaps.

" We're not expecting anything of you, Thor, " Frigga argues, over dinner one night, and Thor slams his utensiles down.

" Then why is it I can't do anything right in this family ?" he argues, turning to glare at his father, " It's not my choice -- I can't just _decide_ where I'm to be put, why are you blaming me for it ?"

" Thor, that is _enough_ , " Frigga snaps, and Thor's almost shocked, that his mother is yelling at him. Frigga never yells. _Odin_ yells, yes, but Frigga ? Never.

" I'm done, " Thor mutters, standing up and pushing away from the table. " I'm done. I'm not going back there, I'm transferring. "

" You can't do that. "

It's the first sentence Odin says, since Thor's started to argue this non-existent argument, and that simple fact flares something up in Thor, makes him narrow his eyes and glare.

" And why not ? Hogwarts isn't the only wizarding school around here -- " he starts, but Odin interrupts him.

" Stop being a child about this -- my family, _your_ family has attended Hogwarts for generations, you will not -- "

" You can't tell me what to do !" Thor shouts, and, because he's eleven years old and prideful, he slams his chair back, refusing to notice how Loki winces slightly, his eyes glued to his own food.

" ENOUGH, " Odin roars again, standing up himself, but Thor snorts.

" No. I'm not going back to Hogwarts, and you can't stop me. "

He applies for Sankt Makaali, one of the eldest Nordic schools of Witchcraft, and goes there for his next year. His father says nothing, but Frigga's the one to send him off on the first of September. Loki takes the Hogwarts Express alone.

* * *

Loki gets into Slytherin, and it's the talk of the family over Christmastime. Even Sif's entrance to Gryffindor, and Thor's hereditary betrayal, get brushed over. He doesn't know whether to thank his brother, or be sympathetic to the way his family reacts.

Someone overturns the dinner table, and Thor can't quite recall who.

* * *

The next year, Thor doesn't come back for Christmas.

* * *

Sif writes him, and tells him that she's worried about Loki.

Sif has always been brave. Thor's known she would be in Gryffindor, since the moment he watches her fight back when one of the boys, at a family event, decides she's not tall enough, fast enough, or manly enough to join the rest of them on their adventure. She fights back, without once going to tell on the parents, and there's something about this that Thor admires, so he tells everyone that Sif is coming along.

She doesn't complain, once. Not even when she falls in mud, and the skirt of her dress gets ruined. Thor watches, with a barely-surpressed awe, as she rips the torn segment off, uses it to tie back her hair, and continues forward.

At the end of their adventure, Sif is the one who climbs the farthest up the tree, and who isn't afraid to jump, down, down, all the way down.

She thinks about this when she sits in front of the Great Hall, and the Hat is placed on her head. There's a part of Sif that's a little hurt, a little disappointed, because Loki has been placed in Slytherin, and Thor isn't here. She's only ever had a few close friends, no matter how many playmates she has, and one is sitting with his fists gripped tight, in a table of green and silver robes. The other one is so far away, she can't even force herself to think about it, right now.

 _" A fighter, that's what we have here, "_ the voice speaks, and Sif sits, teeth gritted together. She just wants to get this over with. No matter where she's sent, she's going to have to start this whole process over again, befriending people, proving herself, showing herself worthy.

Of what, she's not quite sure, but that's not important. Someone is always judging your worth.

 _" I would tell you, you'll stop fighting one day, "_ the Hat murmurs easily, almost nonchalantly, but then it adds, _" But I don't think you'd want to hear it. "_

Sif might be mistaken, but she might note a slight amusement to its tone, before the voice roars out, and she makes her way over to where the lion's crest is proudly on display, as a banner above the table.

Later that night, she sits on her bed, back straight, thinking to herself, and imagines what it would've been like if Thor had been there, if Loki could've congratulated her. What if they'd heard the word too.

The proud, noble, the roar of the Lion.

What if ?

* * *

Thor comes back, his Fourth Year. He doesn't tell anyone, but Sif knows, she's always been good at knowing, she's always been smart.

Odin ignores Thor's half-hearted attempt at an apology, but accepts it nonetheless -- because it's genuine, no matter how much Thor's tried to brush it off. It's genuine, because he's afraid for his brother, from what Sif has told him. Loki being involved with the wrong people, pulling pranks that borderline on malicious, and Thor sees it, when he comes home for the holidays.

Loki's not the wide-eyed, smiling brother he left, two years ago, and something about this wrenches at Thor's gut.

He tries to talk to Loki about it, but they have a shouting match within the first three minutes, that almost ends in the Ministry of Magic coming after them both. Their wands are out and spells are on their lips before Sif comes in, proclaiming that they're both impossible gits, and they huff, parting ways.

Thor announces that he's going back to Hogwarts, and Loki turns cold.

He pretends not to hear it, the frustrated sobs, the first night, echoing his thoughts until they arrive at King's Cross. The moment they step onto the Hogwarts Express, the boys part ways, Sif tagging along with Thor, and smiling.

He introduces her to Steve, who hugs Thor, even if it's been two years, and Thor left without a word. Sif knows, though. She sits in the corner of the compartment, reviewing her homework, and watches her two friends ( because rules go as they always have, and any friend of Thor is a friend of hers ), how they sit and interact. She knows: they've both lost a friend, more than once, but as long as one comes back, it makes up for it, right ?

Sif hopes, sincerely, that it's true.

Nobody bothers Loki that year, and no one knows if it's because Thor's back, or because Loki hangs a Fifth Year from his ankles outside of the Astronomy Tower, until blood starts pouring out of his nose, when he tries.

* * *

When it comes to politics, Thor's not quite sure where he lies. He knows he's not the only one, either, despite being a Seventh Year and of age, Thor finds himself with little care about the current system, as a whole. He's always surprised, taken aback, a little, when other students start getting excited about news that isn't on the front cover of the Daily Prophet, but then again, the number of students to which this statement refers to is usually in the single-digit. Double, if it's being a particularly difficult year.

His first realization that this is maybe something bigger, occurs the first Hogsmeade weekend.

It might be everyone's first realization.

He's been waiting for Steve and Sif, and probably Pepper as well, for less than ten minutes, and has already been handed two pamphlets about the upcoming rounds for Minister of Magic. Clint left three minutes ago, clapping him on the back and suggesting a meet-up at the Three Broomsticks later, before he's off, leaving Thor to get zeroed in by protesters. A third one is making her way towards him, when he catches sight of Sif out of the corner of his eye, and quickly makes his way over to where she's talking to Bruce and Tony.

" Friends, how are you ?" Thor greets, grinning at the scarves around Bruce and Tony's necks. " Feeling a little chilly ?" he teases. Tony rolls his eyes and smacks him in the arm.

" Not all of us have the central heating system of a heated igloo, " is Tony's response, tightening the scarf around his neck.

" This is nothing, it's only October, " Thor teases, avoiding being smacked in the arm again, then asks, " Where are Steve and Pepper ?" He's only just gotten used to calling Pepper by her nickname, but when it was pointed out to him that he has no issue calling Tony as such, he had to make the switch. Clint suspects that the only reason Thor still calls him Clinton is to be a pain, which isn't exactly wrong.

" They're canoodling, " Tony replies.

" What's canoodling ?" Thor asks, frowning, and Tony rolls his eyes again; Sif wants to tell him that they might get stuck in the back of his head. Luckily for her, Bruce does, pointing it out as if it was a fact, and Tony snorts. " The back of my brain is _brilliant_ , thank you very much, and it'd be wonderful to look at it, " is the response, as he rolls his eyes again.

" You're an idiot, " Bruce tells him, which causes the shorter male to bow, almost falling over when his scarf unravels itself, and he stumbles, stepping on its tail when he tries to stand up again. He makes a noise between a wail and a squeak, and Thor is laughing too hard to actually keep him from falling over.

Steve and Pepper appear out of nowhere, Pepper raising an amused eyebrow at Tony, while Steve reaches out to steady him, and sigh.

" Do you even know how to tie a scarf ?" Steve chides, Tony huffing in response as Steve reaches over to start rearranging the yellow scarf.

" Of course I do. Do _you_ ?"

" Yes, that's why my scarves don't come apart when I bend over. "

" 'Cause I bet you're doing a lot of bending over. "

The cold may cover up Steve's blush, but it doesn't do much for Tony's wink, and Pepper's giggle.

" But I guess that's Pepper's job to tell me, right ?"

" Please, shut up, now. "

" Because, you know, she tells me eve -- "

" Tony, " Bruce warns, sighing in a way that signifies he's been dealing with this, for way too long, " _I'm_ asking you to shut up. "

" For you ?" Tony asks, reaching over to wrap his arm around Bruce's waist and pulls him close, " Anything. "

" Down, Casanova, " is Sif's response, before she, too, grins, and the group starts its trek down the streets of Hogsmeade.

* * *

" Is it just me, or is this town getting run over by political activists ?"

Sif looks up, where Clint sits in the middle of the Three Broomsticks, lounging back against his chair and watching the parade of pamphlet-toting witches and wizards outside.

" You just noticed ?" Her eyebrow is raised, and Tony's proud to be able to detect the hint of sarcasm on her tone. The three of them are waiting for Bruce and Thor, assuming Steve and Pepper will be busy _canoodling_ to join them until later. Not that it really maters, they've each got a pint of Butterbeer in front of them, even if it means Tony had to bat his eyelashes, and Clint had to try not to laugh.

" I'm just saying, " Clint comments, shrugging a little, " I've never really seen ... Y'know, real people, at Hogsmeade. "

Sif snorts, shaking her head. " What, so you assume the people roaming the streets aren't real people ?"

" Well, when you put it like that ... "

" Don't mind Clint, he's an idiot, " a voice sounds; Natasha Romanoff stands over them, raising an eyebrow in her dark-green peacoat.

" Nat, " they greet, moving aside to let her sit. She pulls up a fourth chair, reaching over to steal Tony's Butterbeer.

" You're underage, " she points out, when he opens his mouth to protest. Tony makes a face, grabbing Clint's.

" You're underage, " he snarks, when it's Clint's turn to protest, and Natasha barely stifles her snort.

" I'm Natasha, " she adds, turning to hold out a hand in Sif's direction. Sif nods, introducing herself.

" Nat's about the only Slytherin we can stand, " Clint explains, feigning an air of haughtiness, " So we sort of keep her around. "

" Tony's the one who was supposed to be a Slytherin, " Natasha responds without missing a beat, taking a sip of the beverage. Nobody notices how Tony stiffens and takes a gulp, and the four settle into an easy conversation once Clint receives another drink. It lasts six minutes, before a witch is knocking on the window in front of them, waving her sign in the air. They frown at it, but she continues to mouth at them, her shouting incoherent through the glass and volume inside the Three Broomsticks.

" Christ, " Clint mutters, waving her off to turn back to face Sif. " Seriously, when was the last time something like this happened ?"

" You mean the last time a new Minsiter ran ?"

" Yeah. "

The three look up, in mild surprise when Tony speaks, but he shrugs, busying himself with taking another sip of Butterbeer. " I mean, does it happen often ? A new Minister, I don't... Really know these things. "

Natasha's nod is understanding, before she answers, " There hasn't been for a while -- Ministers last until they get sacked, or die, " she explains, " It changed when I was about seven, but I guess you wouldn't have known. " It's not said with an ounce of pity, or belittlement; Tony realizes Natasha is stating a mere fact, and this in itself makes the corners of his lips quirk up to smile.

" So what's happening now ?" he asks, looking back outside, where a group of Ravenclaws are talking to one of the protestors -- or are they activists, Tony can't really tell the difference. " I thought Strange was still alive. "

" He is, " is Natasha's amused response, " But he _might_ be getting sacked -- and honestly, after a decade, the wizarding community is getting pretty bored. "

" So they're overthrowing the current government, out of _boredom_ ?" Tony asks, both eyebrows raising in the slightest.

" Witches and wizards do that, " Sif answers, taking a moment to mull over her words, " It's not like how the Muggle government goes, with a Royal family and your... What's it called ? The overseeing government ?"

" Parliament ?" Tony offers, and Sif nods.

" Yeah, it's not like that, or in America, where a Prime Minister changes every four years and whatnot. Here, we basically control the government. Or, the public, that's of age, does. It's a lot more in our hands that way, if we want something changed, we make it happen. "

Tony frowns a little, motioning out of the window. " So, why is it that people are going all wacko about this now ?" he asks, eliciting a shrug from Sif.

" It's 'cause there's a ton of equality bills that are being offered, " Natasha answers, " At least, I think. "

" Yeah, " is Clint's response, as he takes another sip, " People are being unhappy with the stands Strange is taking on these bills, so they want a new guy in, who might possibly be on their side. But nobody really knows where _they_ stand yet, because the bills haven't even been processed. Some girls in my DADA class were talking about it, " he adds, " But it's not really just that. "

" Oh ?" Tony asks, frowning a little at his friend. " What is it, then ?"

Clint shrugs, taking a few moments to answer. " i think it's just, the smell of change in the air. People have decided they want something difference. Bills might not be made, but they're going to start before that, they're going to start with booting Strange out of the Ministry, and seeing if we can start new, a clean slate. "

The group takes a moment to mull the words over, and Sif breaks the silence, nudging her pint in Clint's direction.

" And here you were the one confused to see real people in Hogsmeade. "

" What can I say, " Clint grins, " I've a deeply-layered man. "

" Stuff it and finish your beer, before I do, " Natasha throws back at him, chuckling under her breath.

* * *

A woman shoves a pamphlet into Tony's hand, and he'd throw it away, the moment he grips it, throw it to join the  _Muggles And Wizards: We Can't Live as One_ index-card sized poster he was handed upon leaving the Three Broomsticks, just toss it away if it weren't for the picture of the running centaur, plastered on it's front. The words, _Too Much To Handle ? War, When Worlds Collide_ , flash up at him, and he almost topples over Bruce, laughing so hard. His scarf doesn't come off this time, but Bruce still manages to catch him, as the group, sans Steve and Pepper, make their way back to Hogwarts.

" So it's a _war_ now ?" Tony asks, still laughing, as he raises the pamphlet and shows it to the others. Clint snorts, and Sif rolls her eyes, but Tony continues, " I just want to know, really, who comes up with these things ? When Worlds Collide ? Jesus, what, that's on every single shitty television preview, for the past four decades -- nevermind, it's everywhere, is what I'm saying, " he adds quickly, when the word 'television' conceives a collective frown from the group. " Really, you purebloods, you think you're so cool but you've never even watched  _television_ , " he drawls out, swearing when Clint drops a handful of ice from his drink down the back of his scarf.

" Git, " he hisses between his teeth, but Clint simply shrugs.

" Oi, you're not the only one who knows what a television is, Stark, " the Hufflepuff responds, and Bruce sighs, placing himself between the two.

" Play nice, girls, " he warns, ignoring their taunts of _or what_ , and simply throws his arms around both their shoulders. " Or I'm going to get angry, and you won't like me when I'm angry. "

Though Tony's the only one who really knows the extent of the statement, they both laugh, even when Bruce holds them still enough for Sif and Natasha to tickle their sides. Turns out, both Tony and Clint let out very feminine shrieks at the action, and Thor nearly doubles over laughing at them, before he, too, is tickled.

" Alright, children, " Sif announces, amusement heavy on her tone, " Let's head back to the castle, and watch out: _we're at war_ , apparently. "

* * *

There's a lot that Steve loves, really loves, about Pepper Potts.

He loves that she has different types of smiles, loves when she outright _grins_ , but even more when it's the half-quirk of a smile, a shy, secretive kind. He loves that she's allergic to strawberries, but will stare longingly at foods that are garnished in it, loves that she contemplates eating one just to see what it tastes like, but won't, because that would be unreasonable -- he loves that she knows the difference between doing something dumb, to be silly, and when things are just _too_ stupid to do. He loves that she's smart, really smart, that she's sharp as hell, and isn't afraid to show it, but doesn't pretend her wits aren't there, either. He loves how headstrong she is, how determined she'll get, how she will stand, square, and stare down the person, or persons, in front of her if she believes she is right. He loves that she'll admit when she's wrong, sometimes. He loves that her intentions are in the right place.

Steve knows he doesn't love her, not yet, but he loves a lot of things about her. He knows he could, in the future; how could he not, when she's got so much for him _to_ love.

Most of all, though, Steve loves how Pepper is with her friends, how she is with Tony.

He sits and watches, sometimes, picks up on the small, almost-underlying actions between the two. The way that she'll drag him to sit with them in the library, instead of disappearing off between the books, or how Pepper seems to keep track of time in her head, and stops every now and then to make sure Tony takes a break. How he kisses her forehead when he's really tired, and leaves the Gryffindor Common Room ( Steve's getting used to seeing him there, too, and spending more of his time there, instead of with Maria in the Head Boy and Girl's Common Room ) to go stumble back and probably work some more, how he lets her eat his green beans, but only if she surrenders her broccoli. How they complain about each others' company, but Tony still looks to Pepper every single time someone brings up a Magical reference he doesn't understand -- this one doesn't happen that often, but it still happens.

Steve watches, and then he smiles that secret smile, the one he's had since a kid, that quirks a corner of his lip up and he tries to look away, even if he enjoys it. He smiles every time, watching them interact, without a trace of jealousy. He knows nothing will go on between Tony and Pepper, knows it because, once you get to a certain level of friendship, it's either all in, or all out. Tony and Pepper ? They're all out, anyone can tell, but mostly, Steve can tell, n the little details.

He has no problem, when Tony comes to join them, when Tony places himself in the un-awkward third wheel position, because it's not awkward, not when he and Tony are _friends_ , now. And he likes watching them together, he really does.

Friendships like that are difficult to come by, Steve would know, above anyone. So he can appreciate, above anyone, seeing it be played out before him.

* * *

" I was thinking, " Tony announces, arriving at the far table in the Great Hall, where his friends sit, " Why are they the only ones allowed to have a say in the future ?"

Bruce, who's working on Defense Against the Dark Arts homework with Clint ( read: trying to work _with_ , Clint seems to be set on practicing charms instead ), looks up, raising an eyebrow.

" Hello to you too, Tony, " Steve greets, chuckling a little, now used to Tony's general antics. Tony ignores it, sitting himself down next to Thor, across from Bruce.

" Why are we the only ones to have a say in the future ?" he repeats. Thor glances up from where he's reviewing Pepper's notes, and frowns in the slightest.

" Care to explain your statement ?" he asks, causing Tony to roll his eyes.

" Look, it's simply. They, the crazies, people-folk, real-people, with their television slogans of when the worlds collide, whatever it was, and this is war, which it's not, all of that -- why are they the only ones with an opinion ?"

" They're not, " Pepper responds, half-paying attention to Tony, but he doesn't care. Because she's answered his question, and given him the answer he's looking for.

" Exactly !" Bruce jumps a little when Tony slams his fist against the table, but the effect is not as desired, so he reaches over, grabs Steve's Ancient Runes textbook instead, and _throws_ it against the table. Nobody jumps this time, but they all eye him warily. " Look, " he starts, as Steve reaches to grab his textbook, before Tony can try for a third time, and possible introduce real explosions into the mix, " All I'm saying is, Sif is right -- "

" No surprise there, " Clint throws in, simply to interrupt, and Thor nods.

" Shut up, Sif is right, I've been reading up on it, this brings a new definition to the term 'we the people' -- it's an American thing, Muggles, whatever -- anyway. Why can't we do something about it ?"

" Are you asking why we're not getting politically involved, " Bruce asks, rather amused as he finally looks up from his notes. Tony nods, then shrugs.

" I mean, yeah, why not ? It's interesting. So why not ?" he repeats, and Steve chuckles.

"  Do you just decide to do that ? Say why not, and decide to be active in something ?" he asks, already knowing the answer, especially when Clint rolls his eyes. " Does he ever, " is the muttered response by the Hufflepuff, before he adds, " Besides, Stark, the school _is_ involved. At least, of agers can vote. "

" Ah, " Tony responds, in the tone of voice that makes Bruce groan inwardly, Pepper shake her head, and Clint groan outwardly, " But there's the issue -- Not everyone is of age here. But it doesn't mean we can't do anything. "

" What're you planning ?" Pepper asks, officially given up as she leans against Steve for moral support, through whatever Tony's next words are going to be.

He shrugs a little, grabbing Clint's Potions essay, that's sticking out of the corner of his bag, and begins skimming through for corrections. " I'm not sure yet, but we'll figure it out. "

" Glad you've made us part of this project, " Bruce replies, and the fact that he's able to even sound sarcastic makes Tony's grin all the more bright.

* * *

" I've decided what I'm going to do, " Tony announces later that day, leaning back against the couch from where he sits, on the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room.

It's nearing two in the morning, but he's still got three essays to write, and Pepper has fallen asleep on the couch, despite her protests that she wasn't going to, leaning against Steve's side. Rhodey's falling asleep over Steve's notes, Bruce went to bed two hours ago, partially because working on an essay for three hours simply to have it barely meet length-criteria takes its toll on the person, but Tony assumes it's because Bruce gets worn out when there's no moon as well, and Sif is singlehandedly fixing every error in her group's project. Judging from the cursewords they've become privy to, Tony assumes she's been grouped with a lot of idiots. He's not wrong. Even Butterfingers is curled up on the corner of the desk, miffed at Tony for keeping him up this late.

They're all exhausted, Sif and Steve barely murmuring in response, and Tony doubts Rhodey's even heard him. But it doesn't really matter, because, after a few moments, Steve looks up to take a break from his homework, and raises an eyebrow at Tony, making sure his movements aren't waking Pepper.

" We might not be able to vote on who becomes Minister, I know that's not going to change, " Tony starts, twirling his quill between his fingers, " But we can change what the Minister _does_. What the _Ministry_ does. "

" That's nice, " Rhodey murmurs, voice heavy with sleep, and Sif hums in agreement. Tony rolls his eyes, then brings them back to Steve, who seems to have been paying attention. At least, understood more than the other two.

Steve, in turn, blinks a few times, lifting up a hand to rub tiredly at his eyes. " Tony, I'm really too tired to try and understand -- " he starts, not even the least bit annoyed when Tony interrupts, waving him off.

" I'm saying, us little folk, the babies, we can't really decide who wins, right ? Whether it's Lensherr, or Strange going in for second term, or whatever you call it here -- we can't pick that. But we should be able to vote on bills, have a say on that. The Minister gets picked by the people, but what makes up the Ministry ? Everyone should get a say. "

Steve thinks he's too tired to smile, but his own body surprises him with the corners of his lips tug up, and Tony just grins at the motion.

" I think that could work, " he says, after a few moments' pause.

" Of course it'd work -- I just gotta figure out how to do it ... "

Which is how Steve finds himself talking politics with Tony until four in the morning, with Pepper snoring softly on his shoulder, through Rhodey and Sif each getting up to haul themselves back into their dorms. How Steve finds himself listening to Tony rail off every point, why it should work, why others say it won't, why he's right anyway, and by the time four-thirty rolls around and his homework still isn't near being done, Tony Stark is convinced he's going to get underaged witches and wizards to vote in _something_.

It's not that Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it won't happen, it's that Steve believes, wholeheartedly, that Tony can do it. Because the determination behind Tony's eyes speaks volumes to him, and the next morning, when he repaves his plan to the group over a bleary, tired breakfast, it's back, thrice as strong.

* * *

Pepper's the only girl Tony has ever let into his bed.

Hell, Pepper's the only _person_ he's ever let in his bed -- Tony's not very careful about boundaries, not really responsive to the ones he does notice. He's slept in Bruce's bed loads of times, and most weren't even the result of him being too tired, or drunk, to head back to the Ravenclaw Tower. Usually, sleeping in Bruce's bed was for the other's comfort, the night before a full moon when they were younger, or comforting his friend after a rough day, week, what have you. Sometimes, Tony just ends up in there, and ends up, the both of them laying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. Sometimes, there's a brush of elbow, or an awkward bumping of feet, but they don't touch more than that -- it's no touch above a comfortable one. Tony wouldn't make a move on Bruce, has never even considered it, but he's slept in his bed, loads of times, hundreds, countless times over the past six years.

With Clint, it's been even less. When Tony ends up in the Hufflepuff dormitories, knees pressed to his chest on Clint's bed ( because if he's over there, it's never to just sit on the bed, no matter how much bravado Tony pretends to have, there's a reason he's there ), and the two sit in silence, understanding, but not bringing attention to. It says a lot about their friendship, the way they'll both curl up, back-to-back, usually with a few centimetres of space between their bodies. But they know the other is there, they always do. Even when Clint's the one that needs to sit, Tony goes there.

Pepper, on the other hand, Pepper will come to Tony.

It has nothing to do with the staircase jinx in the girl's dormitories, because there are ways to get around that. There's charming classrooms, and making beds appear. There's the kitchens ( which they've slept in multiple times ), and the Room of Requirement, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the school's restrictions pertaining to gender separation.

It's just that Pepper will sometimes stay with Tony, sometimes talk to him, talk at him, let him talk at her, listen or be listened to, and he lets her into his bed. They curl up, not too much, but enough. Sometimes she drapes an arm around waist, sometimes he has an arm around her, other times, their fingers are simply intertwined, in the middle of the mattress. He holds her when she needs to cry, and sometimes he goes to find her when Bruce's patience won't do, when he doesn't want someone to just sit and _understand_ , like Clint does. Sometimes, Tony just needs to rant and rave, to explain himself because he knows he has to, but not be patiently led through it, like Bruce.

Because Pepper will pull things out of him, she will let him shout, be angry, be furious in how upset he is, but she'll push him until he gets it all out in the open. Bruce sits, and lets Tony say all he wants to say, never prodding him for a second, Bruce who knows what it's like to be poked at and pushed for boundaries. Clint doesn't need it out in the open, because he knows it all, even when it's locked up and gated.

But Pepper, Tony will let Pepper into his bed, because she needs to get insider his privacy, sometimes.

Just because Pepper's the only girl, the only person, Tony's ever let into his bed, however, doesn't mean hers is the only bed he's been in.

He's in one right now. Or, he was in one, before he turned over and slipped off, so he can now try and locate his trousers. He gives up on trying to find the second sock, because that'll take time, and Tony doesn't have time. Not right now, he doesn't.

So he finds his shirt and tugs it on, grateful that he's smart enough ( always smart enough ) not to wear a tie when he knows things are going to end this way, because that just gives him one more thing left to find, and Tony can't be bothered to do that right now. He's grabbing his robes and throwing them on; they billow behind him as he stalks out of the empty space behind the farmhouse tapestry, ignoring the look of surprise a Second Year gives him. The boy, Jerry, is still sleeping, and Tony knows he can't get away fast enough.

Not that there's really places to get away, in a castle like this, but Tony doesn't really care.

He doesn't care, because his mother's dead, and he really thinks he should be upset by now. He doesn't care, because the funeral has come and go, and Tony doesn't know a thing about it. Doesn't who was there, who wasn't, who cried, who pretended to. Doesn't know what sort of flower arrangement was present, and worse ? Tony doesn't know if his mother would've liked it or not.

He'd received a letter, from Howard. It was brief, stated that his mother was now buried in the family plot, that Tony was missed, that his mother will be missed, and Tony's actually surprised he made it through reading the letter without setting it ablaze. Dummy had wanted to eat it, but Tony's not about to place such horrid punishment on him.

So his mother's dead. His mother's dead, he's only wearing one sock, and that night, Tony finds himself curled up with Pepper in his arms, and wonders if he's just pretending to ache for the warmth of another body.

He falls asleep wondering, and wakes up, still not knowing.


	6. Chapter 6

The group finds out about Maria Stark's death the following Tuesday morning.  
  
Tony's sitting with them at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, when a Slytherin third year suddenly approaches. She has two friends with her, who seem set on pulling her away.  
  
" Shut up, just let me -- " she hisses, making her way over to stand behind Tony. The group goes silent; even Rhodey's impression of Bruce's before-tea crankiness dies down.  
  
" Uh ... Can we help you ?" Rhodey asks, raising a wary eyebrow. The Slytherin ignores him, however, and speaks.  
  
" I, I just wanted to say ... Uh, I'm ... Sorry about your mom. " Everyone frowns, exchanging curious looks, but the girl is staring directly at Tony, who seems more interested in feeding Butterfingers than paying attention to the nervous girl, and confused glances.  
  
" Tony ?" Bruce asks, hesitantly, and immediately, his head snaps up.  
  
" Hm ?"  
  
Bruce motions over to where the girl is standing, nervous with a newspaper in hand.  
  
" I'm just -- Sorry about your mom, " she repeats, voice a little more firm, albeit just as solemn, the second time around. " I read it, my dad's a muggleborn, he sends me the newspaper, it sort of made headlines ... " She trails off, the moment Tony interrupts.  
  
" It's in the paper ?"  
  
She nods, and Steve feels hurt for Tony, under his confusion, his piecing things together, simply for the way he looks genuinely surprised that he even asked. Tony Stark, getting off-track, it seems, and Steve wants to slam a book against the table for the way Tony's off-guard confusion is instantly brushed aside with a shrug.  
  
" Oh. Okay. Well, you couldn't have done anything. " His attention is now turned back to Butterfingers, despite the way that everyone is staring at him; he doesn't seem to notice the silence, or the Slytherin's third apology, followed by her exit. Pepper breaks it, leaning over and nudging his shoulder. When Tony doesn't answer more than a halfhearted, distraacted hum, Pepper reaches to gently take Butterfingers into her hands. This gets Tony to look up, frowning --  
  
" Hey, what was that for ?" he asks, tone angry.  
  
" Tony ... " Rhodey starts, keeping him locked under a worried gaze. " Tony, what was she talking about ?" Tony doesn't respond, but keeps his gaze hardset against Pepper, eyes narrowing when Pepper hands him over to Steve's outstretched hand.  
  
" Give him back, " Tony snarls, and it's all Steve can do to keep from flinching under the demand under Tony's eyes.  
  
" Did -- " Bruce starts, but Tony cuts him off with a wave of a hand.  
  
" Yes, she died -- give him back now. "  
  
" Oh, Tony. " Pepper leans over to put a hand on his arm, and he rolls his eyes.  
  
" It's fine, " he mutters.  
  
" Why didn't you tell us ?" Steve asks quietly, watching Tony's lowered head, keeping Butterfingers from squirming his way out of Steve's grasp.  
  
" It wasn't really that important, alright ? It just happened, " he snaps, and Steve thinks he feels broken again -- he's forgotten the feeling, after eight years -- with how genuine Tony's statement is. He doesn't have the time to consider it, however, because Tony's sighing and grabbing his bag. " Look, " he starts, standing himself up, " She got hit by a car, not that the 'how' matters, you guys don't even know what that is -- last week, and that's about it. I have to go, I need to get a paper in to McCoy -- " He reaches over, snatching Butterfingers out of Steve's hands, and makes it three steps away from the table before he turns on his heel and re-addresses the group. " Don't stress it, really. Don't overthink this. I'm fine. It was bound to happen. "  
  
He leaves before anyone has a chance to stop him, to offer condolences, to tell him to stay. It doesn't make much difference; they're all too shocked to say a word.  
  
Finally, Steve breaks the silence, by turning to Pepper and murmuring into her hair, " Why is it that Tony's mom's ... Why would that be in the headlines ?"  
  
Pepper doesn't have an answer for him, and when she shakes her head, shrugging slightly, Steve runs out of questions.

* * *

He runs into the Slytherin girl later that day, right after his class -- but Clint gets to _him_ first. Intercepts him, as the Hufflepuff makes his way out of the library, with a friendly clap on the shoulder.

" Did you know ?" Steve asks him after retelling what had happened that morning, and Clint's shrug seems to say as much as his words do -- _Not at all, but look, Tony ? Tony's ... Not really the sort to, it's not that he doesn't care, or he's trying to play it off, but you gotta realize that, if he doesn't wanna talk about it, then he won't. There's nothing you can do, and it's not unhealthy, it's just him._ _You'll get used to it.  
_

_This stuff happens, it's not the first time, just let him be._

Steve's frowning, he wants to ask what Clint means, or protest -- because nobody can really be that alright with a family member's death, right ? And Steve would know about someone like-family being gone, except that opens a whole slew of doors he doesn't even want to think about, especially not to Clint -- when he sees the girl. He excuses himself quickly, crossing the hallway to send a hand on her shoulder. She jumps, quickly eyeing the Head Boy badge he forgets is pinned to his chest.

" It's okay, " he says, as a precursor, " You were, you came up to us this morning, right ? Gryffidnor table, I was sitting with Tony -- "

" I know who you are, " she nods, a little wary.

" I just wanted to know, what did you mean about the newspaper ?"

The girl's eyebrow raises, her hand twitching towards her bag. " What do you mean ?"

" You said something about a headline, and we wanted to see... " he starts, holding his tongue before he realizes something else could've slipped otu entirely. Fortunately, another Slytherin comes over to tug on her sleeve, eyeing Steve as well.

" Claire, we gotta go to class, " he whispers, and Claire sighs, reaching into her bag and all but pressing the newspaper against Steve's chest as she gets pulled away.

" Here, I read the comics anyway, hope it's what he wanted to read, " she tells him, offering a shrug before she rushes off to class. Steve bites his lip, part of him feeling guilty in how his words came across, but there's no time to muse on this because Clint approaches, waiting an eyebrow.

" Well that was interesting to watch, " he starts, motioning to the newspaper, " What's that ?"

Steve holds it up for Clint to see, the other male's eyebrow raises even more, and Steve's gives off a small shrug. " Come on, Pepper has a free, she's probably in the library, " he murmurs. Clint groans, but they turn heel anyway.

" I was just in there !"

* * *

When Steve sets the newspaper down in front of Pepper, and finally gets a good look at it, his reaction isn't entirely as Clint expected.

" Wait, so their pictures don't even _move_ ?"

Pepper raises her eyebrow at him, facing him with a look that takes the joking grin on his face away.

" Sorry, " he mumbles, kissing the side of her head, as she reaches to grab the newspaper.

" Where did you get this ?"

" Stevie here took it from a Slytherin, " Clint offers, grinning at Steve's sigh.

" I _asked_ for it, " he defends, adding, " I just... I wanted to see what it said. Tony wasn't about to tell us... "

" So you think that's reason to go behind his back and see ?" Clint asks, raising an eyebrow. Steve shoots him a glare -- thanks, thought you were on my side, considering you _walked all the way over here reading it_ \-- but Pepper's sigh stops him.

" Clint has a point, Steve, " she tells him. " Tony can tell us what he wants. "

" But she said it was in the newspaper, " he protests.

" Obituary ?"

" I don't think so, " Clint pipes up, pushing a hand through his hair, " Look at the front page. "

Pepper unfolds the cover, turning it over, and her eyes narrow at the headlines. " Maria Stark, dies at car crash, " she reads, " Where does the Stark fortunate stand now ? Maria Stark, fourty-one, dies in a vehicle collision... Howard Stark refuses to comment on Stark Industries' inheritance... Howard and Maria's son was not shown in attendance at the funeral, will Tony Stark be taking over in future years, what _is_ this ?"

She and Steve stay bent over the newspaper for a while, reading the article. They get halfway through, when Clint finally speaks.

" So, you guys aren't even going to bother asking ?"

Steve and Pepper look up, frowning a little, and Clint bites back a comment on couples merging into the same person.

" What're you talking about ?" Steve asks. Clint snorts, then shakes his head and sits back up.

" Nevermind. Find me when you figure it out. "

He leaves Steve and Pepper alone in the library, and soon enough, even the newspaper is forgotten between them.

* * *

Steve soon finds out that, when Tony wants something done, he gets it done.

" What about the younger students ?"

A silence forms in the room, and slowly, thirty-three pairs of eyes turn to stare at Tony Stark.

" What was that, Mr. Stark ?" Fury asks, staring Tony down, wary. There's a sliver of curiosity, sneaking behind a trained readiness to react if Tony decides to go a bit too far.

" The younger students, " Tony repeats, hands shoved in his pockets, but shoulders square, features set firmly, " What about them ? I mean. Those who aren't of age yet -- we should have a say in the matter. "

Fury looks surprised, or, as surprised as the Headmaster gets. He wants to agree, so very badly, with this student, the loud-mouthed, gifted, temperamental Tony Stark, who saunters his way into Fury's office, as if he belongs there. Wants to agree, but finds himself ready to stomp out the situation, disagree with whatever danger has the potential of escaping Fury's lips.

Nobody's sure if it's fortunate or not, that a Seventh Year interrupts him.

" You're too young to have an opinion, this is grown-up stuff, Stark, " a Gryffindor sneers, laughing when a friend claps him on the shoulder. Steve frowns, zeroing on the boy who'd spoken -- Ben Francis, lounging on the back two legs of his chair, with a lollipop in his mouth. He wants to interrupt and say something, but Owen, one of Ben's Hufflepuff friends, nods.

" There's a voting restriction for a reason, " he points out, and there's a murmur of agreement.

Tony's eyes narrow, as he turns to look at both boys.

" And yet, I still know more about the subject that you two morons, " he spits.

" Woah, big talk for a baby, " Owen sings, laughing, and Ben nods.

" There's an age-restriction for a reason, we can't start making exceptions for little ol' you, " Ben adds, and there's a part of Steve that really hates the fact that he has a point.

" What, so everyone who isn't of age isn't worthy of an opinion ?" is Tony's exclamation, and Pepper's shaking her head next to him, prepared to tug him down. She doesn't look like she wants to, however.

" When you're not of age, yeah, " someone from the other side of the room calls out, there's another murmur of agreement, and Steve wants to yell at them all. He almost done, when Ben drops back down onto the four legs of his chair.

" What do you know about wizarding politics, Stark, you're one of them. "

Tony freezes, and a beat passes before he narrows his eyes.

" Sorry that a _Mudblood_ has better grasp on your government than you do, Francis, " he replies, voice cold. Someone gasps, and the room is suddenly so still, even Butterfingers isn't moving.

" You wish, " Ben answers after a few moment, well-too aware that everyone is now focused on the two.

" I know. And I know what's going on more than you do. " This gets Ben angry, and he shakes his head, almost slamming his hand down onto the table.

" Bullshit, Stark. Don't run around acting like you know everything about our world, just because you're smart -- "

" So you think I'm smart, " Tony interrupts, grinning, but Steve knows there's still the set line in his frown, at the same time that someone murmurs, " Ben, stop. "

" No, I'm not going to stop, " he snaps, shrugging out of his friend's grasp, " It's about time someone put you in your place. You're not as smart as you think you are, you're not special just because you think you get to pick your future -- "

" Francis, I'd highly recommend you stop, " Phil warns, voice hard, eyes unforgiving, but Ben's already gone.

" I'm not going to be the only kid that tip toes around your pompous ass just because you tried to kill yourself, so just shut up, and accept the fact that you don't belong here. "

The room is cold, silent, and when Butterfingers moves to scramble towards Tony, it shifts something in Tony's hard-lipped, glaring expression. He grabs the hedgehog and turns, out of the room before Pepper finishes shouting, " Tony !"

At once, the students remember how to react.

" FRANCIS, " someone roars, and Phil is walking over, wand pointed at the Seventh Year's chest. Fury is shouting, attempting to re-instate order into the now-chaotic room, people shouting back and forth. Pepper's trying to grab her bags, but she's being shouted at, and her wand comes out instead. Steve immediately pulls his out, and it takes five minutes for the scene to calm itself, for separation charms to be cast, and ten minutes of Fury berating them for their action.

By the time Steve exits the room, promising Phil he'll send him the detention-reports, Tony is nowhere to be found.

He's still gone when Steve meets up with a frantic Pepper and Rhodey in the Common Room, and even more so during rounds, then again that night, when he, Pepper, Rhodey and Bruce get together to look. The next morning, even Clint hasn't heard a word from him.

* * *

" He hasn't come back yet, has he ?" Steve asks that night, looking up from the homework he hasn't been doing. He's been stuck on the same line, pen refusing to write, to continue, and Steve really doesn't think it has to do with anything other than the distinct lack of hedgehog scurrying, and the words ringing in his head: _I'm not going to be the only kid that tip toes around your pompous ass just because you tried to kill yourself._

He's stuck with the overwhelming urge to see Ben Francis take bludger to the face right now -- and not for the first time in the past few hours.

_Accept the fact that you don't belong here._

Pepper, whose attempts at homework seem to be doing a lot better than his, sighs and places a hand on his arm.

" You know he's not a Gryffindor, right ? This isn't his Common Room, " she asks, eyes teasing.

Steve doesn't laugh -- doesn't have to explain that Tony practically lives in others' common rooms when he's not in class, or the library -- so Pepper sighs and leans over to kiss him lightly.

" Steve, really, he's fine. "

" How do you know ?" he asks her, and when she smiles, there's a soft, knowing shine to her eyes.

" Because I've known Tony for six years, and I know how he gets. He's fine. Besides, Rhodey went to go check up on him. " As if on cue, they hear a whoosh of an opening door, and Rhodey steps in through the portrait. He sees Steve and Pepper, nods, and makes his way over to them.

" Rhodey, tell Steve that Tony's alright, so he can quit being a fretful mother and go back to being my boyfriend, " Pepper jokes. " Plus, " she adds, giving Steve a look, " He has an essay due tomorrow and has thirteen inches left to write. "

Rhodey chuckles, clapping Steve on the back. " He's fine, mate, " he says, sitting himself down across the table, " He's doing homework. "

" Told you, " Pepper says, but Steve remains unconvinced.

" I checked the library, " he argues, and Rhodey raises an eyebrow.

" You think that's the only place we can study at this school ?"

" No, " Steve frowns, " But he doesn't like studying in the tower --" He has no idea how he knows this, he really doesn't, "-- and it's not like there's much elsewhere to go, other than... Empty classrooms. "

" Fretful mother, " Pepper muses, chuckling as she leans over to kiss his cheek. " Really, he's okay, he'll be back here tomorrow. "

" How do you know for sure ?" Steve asks, " I mean, that stuff, it was pretty -- "

" Harsh ?" Rhodey offers. Steve nods. " It's not Francis' lowly attempt at winning against Tony that's going to keep him down, " Pepper tells him, " This isn't the first time someone's brought up what happened, and Tony's more than capable of dealing with it. "

Steve would say more, but Pepper's words have a tone of finality in them, and the conversation ceases. He sighs, knowing he has nothing to say, and picks up his essay again. Ten minutes later, he has three words added ( one is misspelled ) and it's Pepper who breaks their working silence.

" Oh, just come with me, " she huffs, getting up and taking Steve's hand. She leads him across the room and out of the portrait, down the hall, to the right, into a corridor -- stopping them beside a statue of a knight, where a ghost is singing, lyre in hand. " Hi, " Pepper greets, pulling Steve closer to her, " Listen, could you do me a favourite ?" He continues his singing, but nods at her. " Could you find Jarvis ? And let me know if he's with a boy -- a sixth year, is he alright ?"

The ghost's singing doesn't waver, but he drifts into the wall and disappears, his tune lingering in the air.

" What was that ?" Steve asks, but Pepper shakes her head and waits. The ghost returns, finishing up the last bar of his song, before he speaks, voice octaves lower.

" Jarvis is with the boy, " he states, a hint of distain on his tone, " In an empty classroom of the dungeons. They seem to be working on potions. Do you require anything else ?"

Pepper shakes her head, thanking the ghost once more. " Happy ?" she asks, turning to Steve and raising an eyebrow. " He's doing homework, or do you need to go down to see him yourself ?"

Steve sighs a little, leaning over to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her closer. " I get it, I get it, " he draws, " You know Tony better than I do. " Pepper grins, her arms wrapping around his neck, " And when I say he's okay ?" she starts; " When you say he's okay, that means he's okay. " He grins a little sheepishly, kissing her.

" Good. " is the only response he gets, before Pepper kisses him again, and he takes her hand as they walk back to the Common Room, where Steve manages to finish his essay in an hour and a half. He gets another page of homework started, before Pepper joins him in the Head Boy and Girl room, and he falls asleep with her head on his chest.

Steve smiles down at her, as sleep wraps fingers around his ankles and slowly pulls him down, and is half in the right mind to tell her he could easily fall for her, but she's sleeping, her hair is falling to frame her face, and Steve doesn't want to ruin anything prematurely.

He could, though. Tell her, that is -- he's already lost in the possibility of loving her.

* * *

Steve realizes he's in the process of falling ( or, to be honest, as much falling as a seventeen year old, who's been surrounded by mostly the same people -- though this remains to be seeon, considering he's _just_ made himself a new grouping of friends -- for the past seven years ) for Pepper a few days later.

He keeps from telling her, because he knows it's too soon, and she might just laugh. That's the thing about having a girlfriend that's as take charge, no bullshit as can be -- he knows she won't be afraid to call _him_ out, and with this ? Steve knows there's the possibility.

So he keeps to himself, keeps to shy smiles and kissing her temple, to placing silencing spells on his room as to not bother Maria, to bringing her a cup of coffee when he knows she's going to be running from her Double Transfigurations to Herbology, across the campus, sending her greetings and parting words on flying airplanes, letting her wear his scarves, not because she's forgotten hers ( because Pepper wouldn't ), but because they both want her to.

He keeps to himself, because he'd rather not ruin something this _good_ so early on.

The cup of coffee is lukewarm, on the library table, as Tony Stark sets his lips, tongue, neck, chest, entire _body_ on fire. He forgets to wish her sweet dreams, that night.


End file.
